Page 4 of The Charm of You

My stomach further twists as frustration and embarrassment swirl inside me.

The hot dog grows heavy in my hand, and I don’t move until long after the game starts. The cheers from the crowd and the chants from the cheerleaders on the sidelines are muffled as I toss my food into the trash and stalk toward the parking lot to leave.

chapter

one

CAROLINE

Present day…

“I need to tell you something.” I lick the remaining drops of red wine from my lips and toy with the thin stem of my glass, hesitation filling my chest.

Edward flicks his gaze over my shoulder and nods at someone behind me. Did he even hear me?

My pulse throbs in my temples as I contemplate the best way to tell him what happened. I’ve had all day to come up with a plan, but now that I’m here, I’m losing my nerve. How can I tell him my dreadful news?

I’m sitting across from him at a five-star restaurant in Manhattan with slow jazz playing overhead, and my lobster tartine is rising up my throat.

“Edward, I was?—”

The rest of my confession is cut off with the appearance of two crisp servers dressed in matching black attire. One pops the top off a champagne bottle in theatrical fashion, and the other gracefully sets a heart-shaped plate in front of me, with a chocolate dessert nestled in the middle. It’s decorated like a gift, and the glistening sheet of white chocolate in the shape of a present tag reads “Will you marry me?”

“Caroline.”

My lungs shrivel.

I lift my head to find Edward down on one knee next to our table. The candles flicker in front of us as if a cold snap whirs through, and I brace myself, alarming chants of no, no, no racing through my mind.

All eyes in the restaurant are on me. With the open windows along the walls around us, it feels like all of New York is watching me.

“Ever since you and I went on our first date, I’ve been mesmerized. I immediately told my friends that you and I would be together forever, and they thought I was nuts.” Edward offers me a shy smile, one he rarely wears. Nothing about him is shy, after all. Not his cutthroat job as a stockbroker, or his walk-in closet of pristine, custom-tailored suits.

But he shifts on the floor now like he’s nervous, and my chest squeezes with this rare sight of vulnerability.

“Caroline, baby, you are passionate. Driven. And beautiful beyond words.” He exaggerates an inhale, and his smile grows wider. “With my promotion and your career taking off last year, we’re both at a place in our lives where this feels right. Now is the time to get married and have a house full of kids like you’ve always wanted, although I still believe one is enough.”

While he chuckles, I remain stock-still. His words act like a screwdriver, painfully twisting screws of resistance in my gut. This is supposed to be a happy occasion. The extravagant floral centerpiece between us and the soft music serenading us are lovely. Knowing Edward, he’s likely hired a professional photographer, and if I had to guess, they’re hiding in the corner to take pictures.

He loves his staged shots, while I prefer the blurry selfies currently framed in my loft.

I’ve imagined this night for years, since before I met Edward. Before him, the guy in my dreams always had a blurry face, but one thing was clear—I was so happy I could burst.

I’m finally being proposed to, and I’m not happy. I’m terrified, and everyone’s scrutiny holding me hostage doesn’t help.

Edward inches closer. “This is even better timing with your ten-year high school reunion next weekend. You can parade into your hometown after all this time with a big rock on your finger. We’ll give that small town a lot to talk about. What do you say? Will you marry me?”

With the question spoken out loud instead of staring at me from the plate of dessert, I jolt from my trance.

But I don’t answer him. Rather, I reach for my wineglass and drain the last of my pinot. This bottle Edward insisted we order costs more than my entire outfit, plus my earlier hair appointment at the dry bar. I might as well enjoy it—and the champagne. It’s still misting off the top like fog rolling across the river back home. It’s begging for me to drink and savor it.

“Um, Caroline?” Edward shifts again. “Everyone’s waiting.”

He says it like everyone else needs the answer, as if they’re the ones whose lives will be forever changed based on this very moment.

“I can’t do this right now,” I whisper.

“What do you mean?”

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