Page 145 of Summer After Summer

I’d told him all about it one night. I hadn’t meant to, but it had all spilled out in a long stream of words. That Fred was someone from my past, that we’d gotten tangled up in a mess, how the press had had a field day.

Afterward, he’d kissed me and said that I was brave to go through that, and that he’d always found Fred arrogant the few times they’d met over the years through common business contacts. He said he wasn’t intimidated by our history; everyone had a past, and if we were meant to be with the person we were with at twenty, then he’d be with Charlotte. We’d laughed at that and moved on to other things, but it was one of the things I loved about him. His confidence in us.

“I remember.”

“Well …”

“I’m sure the tabloids have moved on.”

“They don’t do that. If I go there, every story will mention it. The Jezebel returns.”

“Who cares what the press says? Show them your tennis. Give them something else to write about.”

“Yeah.”

Wes taps me on the shoulder. “Or you could bring them a different story.”

“What’s that?”

“If you were engaged.”

“What?”

“Think about it. If you came back to the tournament, newly engaged, rededicated to the game … the press will eat it up.”

“Newly engaged?”

“Didn’t I ask you to marry me?”

“I feel like I would remember that.”

“Hmm.”

“Wes, be serious.”

“I am serious.” He drops down to his knee and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a small black box.

My hand flies up to my face. What is happening?

“Olivia, ever since you came into my life, it’s felt complete. Will you marry me?”

I start to shake. I can’t believe it.

“Olivia?”

“Yes.”

I reach down to him, falling to my knees. He pulls me to him, and when we kiss, I can feel the tears on our faces. He slips the ring onto my finger, and it’s perfect, a solitary square diamond on a platinum band.

“I love you, Olivia,” Wes says.

“You already said that today.”

“Feels like today is a two I-love-you-day.”

“At least two.” I kiss him, feeling the weight of the ring on my hand. It feels right sitting there, like a promise I made a long time ago. “I love you, Wes.”

“Well, that’s good. Since we’re getting married and all.”

---