Page 87 of Summer After Summer

He sits down and wraps his arms around me. I drink him in, his fresh soapy scent, the undertone of sweat because he’s nervous. He smells like home to me, and I don’t want to lose him. “I love you, Fred. So much.”

“I love you too.”

“I want to be together. I do.”

He smiles against my neck. “I’m so glad.”

“Me too. This is good. This is going to be great.”

“It is.” He sits up. “There’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“I didn’t talk to you about this first either, but …” He reaches for my wrist, the one where I wear the charm bracelet. He dips his hand into his pocket and pulls something out. I can’t quite see what it is. His eyes are clear and full of certainty. “I love you, Olivia. You’re it for me. I want us to be together for always. Will you marry me?” He opens his hand and there’s a small engagement ring charm sitting in the palm of it, a perfect little diamond sitting on a silver band.

My heart swells. “Oh my God.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you.” I fling myself into his arms, tears in my eyes, my whole body shaking.

Fred holds me hard against him, then finds my mouth, and we kiss for a minute, both of us emotional. When we break apart, he takes my wrist and attaches the charm. I touch it, marveling at this turn of events.

“Are you happy?” Fred asks.

“So happy. You?”

“Yes. And I’ll get you a real ring—”

“No, this is perfect.”

We kiss again, then nuzzle into each other.

This is good—this will be good. We’ll get married and spend the rest of our lives together. I’ll move to Boston and play with a new team, and next year I’ll turn pro and we’ll figure out the times we need to be apart. We’ll walk hand in hand together instead of planning for some potential future.

I’m grateful, in a way, that things didn’t work out five years ago. If they had, then we probably wouldn’t be together now, and this wouldn’t be happening.

Married. I’m getting married. To Fred.

It feels like everything I’ve ever wanted is about to come true.

And that scares the shit out of me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

July 2023

I sit there, frozen, as Wes slips into the empty seat next to me, like I’ve been waiting for him to show up all along and he was late, snarled in traffic. He’s wearing dark blue chinos, a light gray shirt, and dockers with no socks.

He leans in casually and kisses me on the cheek. “Happy birthday,” he whispers in my ear, then squeezes my leg briefly under the table. I jerk it away.

I turn to him with the eyes of the table on us. His sandy hair is longer and curly, due for a haircut. He’s been in the sun since we last saw each other, the freckles that come out in summer peppered over his forearms and the back of his hands. I can’t help wondering where he’s been and with who. “What are you doing here?”

His dark brown eyes are innocent. “Didn’t you get my message?”

“No.”

Lucy grabs Fred’s hand. “Let’s go get a drink.”