Page 146 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
I turn around at the sound of his voice. Soft, coaxing, nervous almost.
A gasp erupts from my throat the sight of him kneeling on one knee.
My hand flies up to cover my mouth as my eyes widen.
Shock.
I’m frozen. Suspended in this tiny space of time. One second feels like one minute.
“Jameson?” I mouth his name in question, barely breathing it into existence.
I look at the diamond. It’s large, beautiful, too extravagant. My hand trembles against my mouth, unsteady with nerves and surprise, and … fear too.
Because when my boyfriend proposes to me, my first thought shouldn’t be about the boy I loved—the man I can’t seem to resist no matter how far I try to push him away.
“Harlow, the last two years have been some of the best of my life,” he starts, a nervous smile on his lips. His nearly black hair curls against the collar of his shirt, his brown eyes are anxious but happy behind his glasses. “I love you. I love your daughter. I love our life together. Please, say you’ll be my wife?”
I close my eyes, guilt ridden and unable to look at him.
Spencer, my mind whispers to me.What about Spencer?
The man who took all my firsts.
My first kiss.
My first time.
My first love.
But first doesn’t always mean last.
I drop to my knees in front of Jameson, taking his face in my hands as tears course down my cheeks.
I open my mouth, and I answer him.
CHAPTER 57
SPENCER
SEVEN YEARS AGO
“Let me see my granddaughter,” Harlow’s dad demands, bursting into the hospital room.
“I’m holding her first,” her mom says coming in behind them.
Harlow laughs tiredly from the bed while I sway the baby gently in my arms. She’s so fucking tiny and perfect. I can’t stop looking at her. Her eyes dart around behind closed lids, and I wonder what a newborn possibly has to dream about.
After they’ve hugged Harlow and washed their hands, they play rock, paper, scissors to determine who gets to hold the baby first.
“Grandma wins!” Her mom cheers triumphantly.
After the storm let up, my parents came and visited this morning and Harlow’s just got back from their trip.
I don’t want to let go of my baby, but as supportive as our parents have been they deserve to love on their granddaughter.
“Oh, my goodness,” she croons, taking her granddaughter into her arms. “She’s precious.” With tears in her eyes, she says, “She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
I agree whole-heartedly with that sentiment, but she’s my kid so I’m biased.
