Page 103 of The Bodyguard Affair
“How did it go?”
“It went well. Mom handled it as well as she could. She got a little teary when Em and I left, but I think she really liked the staff. Some of the women on her floor came over and introduced themselves and invited her to rock-themed bingo tonight. There was also talk of her joining a singing group.”
“Wow. She’s already making friends.” I smile, my heart lightening at the thought.
“There was also a silver-haired guy named Bill on her floor. I think he has a crush on her already, because he came by and offered to give her a tour about three times. Not sure if it was a memory thing, or if he’s just persistent. Either way, before we left, he asked if she had dinner plans,” he adds.
“Holy crap. Did she like him?”
He slides me a funny smile. “She kept referring to him as a silver fox, so I assume so.”
“Sounds like she’s going to have the time of her life,” I say.
We sit in silence for a moment, the air between us stretching thin and taut, like an invisible thread threatening to snap. I try to read his expression, but it’s hard to tell where he stands after nearly a week of radio silence.
“Thanks for coming. It means a lot, especially after today. I wasn’t sure if you—”
“Well, I actually came because I wanted to talk to you about something.” He nods toward the French doors leading to the balcony.
We step out onto the balcony overlooking the landscaped lawn of Parliament Hill. It’s quieter here, away from the hum of voices inside. I wrap my arms around myself, more for comfort than warmth, and I lean against the railing, waiting for him to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his expression pained. “About the past few days. I should have kept you updated—”
“No,” I cut in. “Nothing in our arrangement says you’re obligated to keep me updated on what you’re doing.”
His jaw tightens. “That’s just it, though. I don’t want to be in this arrangement anymore. I’ve given it a lot of thought over the past few days, like you asked me to. I went back and forth over it. I talked to my mom about it.”
I take a deep breath, trying to push down the anxiety that’s been gnawing at me since we’ve been apart. “You did?”
“I never understood why settling down was so scary. I feared staying in one place for longer than a couple months, because of the way I grew up. I never felt like I was enough to make anyone want to keep me. Like I was good enough. My mom was actually the one who pointed out that, because of that fear, I’ve been running. Desperate to leave places, people, things, before I get hurt,” he tells me. “And she’s right. I’ve never felt like I needed to be anywhere until I met you. But staying here, being with you, means I could get hurt. And so could you.” He works down a swallow, taking my hands into his with a gentle squeeze before he continues.
“Then I thought about what you said. The night we met. About how love stories aren’t only about a happy ending. And how a happy ending doesn’t mean everything is perfect. We’re going to have our ups and downs. We’ll probably fail each other, hurt each other. And I know that sounds scary, but it’s real. It’s something worth nurturing for as long as you’ll let me, because I love you, with so much certainty, with everything I am. Please tell me you feel even the tiniest bit of what I do.”
He loves me.He told me before, in the car at the airport. But this time feels different. It doesn’t fill me with anxiety or doubt. It makes my eyes watery. My arms and my legs go numb as my chest bursts and fills with affection for this man. The only man, only person who’s ever truly seen me.
“Nolan, of course I do,” I whisper. “Ever since the first night we met, I’ve thought about you. I constantly regretted falling asleep and letting you leave without getting your number. You scared me, but you also woke me up. You were the first person who ever made me realize there was another way to live. A version where I wasn’t lonely, getting takeout for one because it was marginally less depressing than cooking for one. A life where I didn’t work myself to death to avoid being alone.
“And when I saw you again at work, I couldn’t believe that life brought you back, even if you weren’t supposed to stay. I was kidding myself the entire time we were pretending to be friends, stuck in this weird arrangement, because the truth is, I’ve never wanted to be your friend. I never wanted to be your pretend girlfriend. I wanted you. The man who carried my groceries for blocks in the dead of winter. The man who put together my desk. Who encouraged me to follow my dreams without even knowing me or whether I had a stitch of talent. The man who did whatwas right and took care of his mom, even when it was hard. The man who fell in love with the ugliest dog at the rescue. You. Someone I could never dare to dream up for my books, even on my best days.”
Those blue eyes roam my face as he places my palm over his chest, the steady thrum of his heart palpable even through his jacket.
“I’ve never pictured my life with anyone, until you,” I conclude.
“Me either,” he says, the tenderness in his expression threatening to undo me. “And now that I have, all I can think about is the future. With you.”
“A future,” I repeat, my heart bursting with such an overload of love, it feels like it was spun with sugar. “But that doesn’t mean staying here necessarily. I thought about it and I’d love to go with you, wherever you want to go.”
Nolan shifts slightly, his eyes flickering with something unspoken. “Actually, speaking of…I put an offer in on a house.”
I cough. “What? A house?”
“The yellow house.”
“Holy shit.” I know how much that house means to him.
“It was one of those moments that made me realize I’m meant to be here,” he explains, a spark of nostalgia lighting up his face. “Em just so happened to be looking at the listings, and by chance, I glanced down at her iPad when she scrolled past it. I never look at listings, so I never would have seen it otherwise. It was so weird. The moment I saw it and looked at the pictures, I knew I had to put an offer in.”
“Of course,” I whisper, in complete awe.
