Page 42 of Forbidden Obsessions

“Give me your ring,” I tell her. She holds out her hand, watching as I slide her grandmother’s diamond ring off of her finger.

“Are you sure?” she asks again, breathing deeply, like she can’t get enough air.

“Olivia Elizabeth Hamilton, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” I ask, kneeling, with trembling hands of my own.

“Yes,” she exclaims. With tears in her eyes and a relieved grin on her lips, I slide the ring where it’s meant to be. This is much faster than I expected, but it also feels more right than I expected, too. Would we have moved this fast if her mom wasn’t sick? Probably not. Am I unhappy about it? Fuck no.

Despite my fear, and my firm belief that Olivia has and always will be too good for me, I feel we’re exactly where we should be.

“Tomas, there’s something else you should know. My mom wants to watch us get married. That could happen at any time—next week or next year. Are you okay with that?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll marry you tomorrow if you want. The date doesn’t matter. Where we get married doesn’t matter. I only care about you and making you happy for as long as you let me. That’s all I’ve ever cared about, Olivia.”

Olivia looks at the ocean longingly.

“It was a miracle you didn’t get frostbite last time.”

“You’re right,” she grumbles with a heavy sigh, “but I have another surprise for you.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” I ask, feigning surprise.

“We’re going to the cabin for the weekend.”

“I can’t think of a better way to celebrate, but in order to keep tradition alive, I’m going to drive.” I elbow her playfully and wink. She laughs all the way back to the car.

Chapter Eighteen

Olivia

“You’ve got to be out of your mind, Mia.”

“Please,” she begs. “It sounds so fun, and we all run in the same circle, anyway.” She has a point with that. I’m having a hard time coming to terms with it because it’s thecabin—my zen home away from home. Having a joint bachelor and bachelorette party screams sacrilege.

“Ugh. If you can convince my brooding fiancé, then we’ll do it,” I relent.

“Bet,” Mia laughs, already digging out her phone.

It’s been three weeks since Tomas said he’d marry me tomorrow if I’d let him. We’ve settled on a date that’s only two weeks away at this point, but we’re taking it day-by-day with Mom.

“How’s your mom?” Mia inquires, still typing out a text message to someone. This question always trips me up. It’s becoming increasingly harder to answer, too.

“There are good days and bad days. Overall, she’s too thin, frail, winded, and tired. So tired.” After seeing the obvious decline, Tomas and I decided there was no point in waiting to get married, so three weeks it is.

“Yessss,” Mia celebrates.

“There’s no fucking way he said yes. Let me see the phone.” I read Tomas’ one word response—sure—over Mia’s shoulder. “You lying bitch. You used the word demure. A joint party is going to be a shitshow,” I chastise, ready to lob her favorite purple throw pillow at her.

“Ew, bitch. Do you hump this pillow? It smells atrocious.” Like the masochist I am, I sniff it again.

“I think we spilled something on it during the dark age.” Makes sense. It’s called the dark age for a reason.

I grab another bowl of fried rice as Mia starts the next heinous crime show. “What’s on deck now? More serial killers?”

“You guessed it,” she beams. My phone rings the second I spoon an impressive amount of rice into my mouth.Dad.The elephant returns to crush my chest a little bit more, like it does every time he calls.

“Liv,” he says in a strangled voice.Oh, God, this is it. She’s gone.

“Is mom okay?” I ask, unable to focus on anything else.

---