Page 101 of The One I Left Behind

“What is this?” I ask.

“This is where our ride stops. Follow the rose petals to the yellow brick road.”

I open the door and he chuckles, always finding his own jokes hilarious.

“Am I going to be murdered?”

“No. But you might be taken. Be on the lookout for a big guy with a lot of muscle. Kind of a dopey lovesick look on his face. He’s gonna snatch you up and never let you go, like King Kong and that little woman.”

I sigh. “Thanks for the ride, Emmett.”

He winks, and I shut the door. I follow the path, and music starts to play as I grow closer to where I know Ben is building his house. “Change Your Name” by Brett Young plays from a speaker.

When the trees clear, Ben is sitting at a table with three chairs in the middle of a framed house. Sitting next to him is Clayton. There’s a vase of flowers in the middle—daisies, which I know symbolize his mom.

I try not to cry, but I lose the battle as the words of the song sink in. When I walk up the few stairs to get into the house, the music stops.

“Thanks for joining us,” Ben says.

“Sit down, Mom.” Clayton gestures to the empty chair.

I sit down.

“What do you think?” Ben looks around. “Enough room for us?”

“Um… yeah?”

Ben stands and gets a large rolled-up piece of paper from the floor beside him. He spreads it out on the table. It’s the blueprint of the house, and on the top, it says “The Noughton/Adams Home.”

I look at Clayton, and he nods.

“So, I’m thinking this is our bedroom since it overlooks the creek.” Ben points out a room. “Does that seem good?”

I nod. “Sure.” I can’t say much more. I’m still so dumbstruck by what’s happening right now.

“And I picked my room, Mom. As far away from you two as I could get.” Clayton points at the blueprint. In his handwriting, it says, Clayton’s room.

“He’ll look over the lake, and the best part is that there’s no way to sneak out.”

I giggle, more tears trickling down my cheeks.

“But before we can have all this, you have to agree to something.” Ben’s gaze drinks me in.

I look to Clayton for guidance. “What?”

He nods to Ben, and I shift my focus back to him. He’s on bended knee with a ring nestled snugly in a velvet pillow in a ring box.

“Gillian Adams, you’ve been my girl all of my life. I made a lot of stupid decisions that took me away from you. But I promise you, I’m done being stupid.” Ben’s head bobbles back and forth. “You might still have to keep me in line sometimes.”

I laugh.

“Get on with it,” Clayton says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

“If you marry me, I promise to always stand with you, dream with you, and love with you.”

“What do you say, Mom?”

“You’re okay with this?”

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