Page 63 of Spoil
I nod stiffly. Maybe once I’ve slept, I’ll be able to process Harrison’s words with more clarity.
Cass has an eight-year-old son, so I trust her to know the whole kid thing.
I say ‘goodbye’ to Declan and Harrison, who let themselves out, and drag my tired feet to the shower. When I’m finished and have taken a quick nap, I send Cassidy to the club and pull Danny into my lap as we watch two more movies. Her feverdoesn’t return that night, but after I put her to bed, I make a makeshift mattress on the floor next to her so I can check on her throughout the night.
As my dry eyes struggle to stay open. I pull my phone out of my sweatpants. But what do I send? She said she needed a few days, but she didn’t say she needed space. Do I tell her I love her? Over text? That’s lame. Do I tell her I’m giving her space? That’s presumptuous. I scroll through our text messages over the last few months. Mainly mundane things - pictures of Danny, questions about the two of them, dogs I pass on the street. Until I scroll to the beginning.
And re-read my first message to her.
Me: But before we get to work, I need you to know what I want. Alright? And then you can tell me what you can give me. You're it for me, Nell. You're endgame. I want to date you. I want to be your boyfriend, fiancé, and husband. I want you two to move in with me. I want to make you that stay-at-home-mom and pop out however many more kids you want. I want to feed you, and spoil you, and provide for you. After you, if could never be anyone else.
Before I can second-guess myself, I press my thumb to the message, hold down, and copy it. I drop it back into our current chat and send it.
Because all of that is still true for me, and beyond telling her what I want, the rest has to come from her.
Before I shut the phone off, I see that my message has been read, but no bubbles appear telling me she’s replying.
I check Danny’s forehead one more time before lying down and drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter thirty-one
Penelope
Taking care of everything I knew I needed to finish took a few days longer than I expected. A week without Danny and Daniel was painful, but I knew she was in good hands, and I knew they could use that one-on-one time together to start to make up for the four years Daniel missed. They FaceTime’d me every night, but Daniel always left the room after handing Danny the phone.
It was bittersweet, but I knew what needed to happen.
I climb the handful of stairs to The Envelope’s door, smoothing a hand down my dress - my designer dress - before pulling the heavy wooden door and letting myself in.
I smile at the woman behind the counter and give her my name.
Luckily, I’m still on the guest list.
It’s early still, but I know Daniel will be here. Serenity, Cassidy and I made sure Danny was sleeping over with Serenity and Cammy, and Cassidy put pressure on Daniel to work tonight. I needed a chance to talk with him one on one to explain what I’d done.
And sure enough, when I push into The Green Room, Daniel’s there, chatting with a few other customers.
I wait, my hands clasped. I hope tonight goes well, but honestly, it could all blow up in my face. All I can do is have faith in him, and in us, and pray that I’m not too late.
His eyes flit up to mine for a moment before returning to the woman in front of him, only for him to do a double take. His smile falters as he struggles to maintain the polite conversation, but that double take was enough to make my chest ache with pride.
I walk over to the bar and slide onto one of the stools. I can wait for him to finish working.
I ask the man behind the counter for a glass of white wine, but before he can pour it, a warm body sits on the stool next to mine.
“You look stunning,” Daniel says, his voice low and only for me. I can feel the nerves radiating off of him. The only reason he hasn’t touched me or kissed me yet is because he’s not sure if he’s allowed. So, I put him out of his misery.
I rest my hand on his thigh and kiss his lush mouth. I melt into the kiss.
“God, I missed you,” I say, pulling back and grinning when I see my lipstick has smudged on his lips. His eyes are still closed and his body is still, as if he can’t believe I’ve kissed him. I wipe his lips with my thumb but end up smearing more of it than actually cleaning it.
I chuckle at him, but then decide I like the look on him. Let every other woman in here know he’s taken.
When his eyes open again, his brow is pinched with uncertainty.
“We need to talk,” I say, squeezing his hand so he knows it’s nothing bad.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Do you want to talk here? Or in my office?”
