Page 70 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

“That was incredibly corny,” she whispered.

Colin threw his head back and laughed, sharp and loud and bright and it put a funny lump in her throat, made it hard for her to swallow. With anyone else she might’ve considered the moment broken, but with him it just felt like turning to the next page in a book she’d never read. A book she’d left lingering on her nightstand for weeks, picking it up and putting it back down, her hopes for it so high she feared there was no earthly way the reality of it could live up to her expectations, too afraid she wouldn’t like the ending.

She didn’t know what would happen next, but for the first time, the thought didn’t make her want to close the book and it didn’t make her want to flip ahead.

Chapter Thirteen

“Up against your front door?” Lulu shrieked. “Truly! You little hussy, you. When’s the wedding?”

Truly fumbled her phone, nearly dropping it in her shopping cart. She pressed it against her ear and hissed, “Slow way down. There’s not going to be a wedding.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. I know you, Truly, and I might not know Colin well, but clearly the guy’s obsessed with you. I give it six months before you’re shacking up together and a year before one of you pops the question.”

Truly tossed a bag of jumbo marshmallows into the cart with a little more force than necessary. “Would you chill?” She snagged six Hershey’s bars off the shelf. The one on the bottom cracked in half and she cringed, loosening her grip. No need to take her frustration out on the chocolate. “Please. I don’t want to think about weddings or—or anything like that right now, okay?”

“I’m just saying, you were with Justin for how long before you moved in together? How long before you proposed? You have a tendency to move hot and fast—”

“His lease was up, Lulu,” she snapped. “Justin’s lease was up, and he needed a place to stay and maybe your memory’s foggy, but mine isn’t. We were together for three years before I proposed, and I only did it then because I knew if I didn’t it was never going to happen.”

By the time she finished, she was breathing hard and—oh.

The writing had been on the wall, and she’d been so desperate for a happily ever after that she’d done everything she could to ignore it.

Nothing more than a careful intake of breath came over the line.

Truly sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just... you’re right, okay?” She hated writing middles, often found herself sprinting to the happy ending. Life was no different. With Justin, she’d been eager to flip to the next chapter in their relationship; it had been a race to the finish line. “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Let me enjoy this. Please.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so pushy,” Lulu said, sounding regretful. “I’m just happy for you. When are you seeing him next?”

Truly winced.

That was a great question.

If Saturday night had been a fairy tale, Colin had been the princess, dragging his feet as he left her apartment just before midnight so he wouldn’t turn into a pumpkin. Or, you know, so his car wouldn’t get impounded. Same thing.

He’d left her with a kiss and a promise to text that he’d made it home safely. And he had.

Colin (12:34 a.m.): Made it home.

Colin (12:35 a.m.): Next time, I’m letting them tow my car.

Truly (12:36 a.m.): Bold of you to assume there’s going to be a next time.

Colin (12:39 a.m.): Nice try. I’ve got your number. You like me.

Truly (12:42 a.m.): I like your mouth. Your fingers aren’t so bad, either. Your ego, on the other hand...

Colin (12:44 a.m.): ??

Colin (12:45 a.m.): Sweet dreams, Truly.

Truly (12:46 a.m.): Good night, Colin.

Truly (12:46 a.m.): And thank you. For tonight. I had a really wonderful time.

Colin (9:18 a.m.): So. Next weekend. Ikea?

Colin (9:19 a.m.): Or we could try going on an actual date, if you want.

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