Page 134 of Happy After All

But still.

“Three thousand dollars.”

There’s an audible gasp from the crowd.

AllIcan think of is that Christopher is going to have to explain to his fiancée that he bid this much money on his ex’s Christmas tree if he wins.

I don’t hate that for him, though I don’t want his life to implode. Not when my life is going so well. But I wouldn’t mind if his life were a little bit of a trial for him on occasion.

“Ten thousand dollars.” Nathan looks straight up at me as he says that number, and I cannot believe it. It is by far the highest bid anyone has seen here, and if I had ever begun to doubt he was a millionaireNew York Timesbestseller, I don’t now.

The crowd is cheering, people shoving at each other, shoving at Nathan.

He’s definitely won. It’s definitive. It’s not just a bid, it’s a grand gesture.

The grandest of gestures.

So I decide to give him one of my own. I step off the stage and straight into his arms.“Sold,”I say.

With that, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.

People cheer. It feels like exactly what it is. That magical moment when things couldn’t go better. As if it werewritten, and not a scene from life.

We part, and Nathan looks at Christopher. I can feel thwarted male pride emanating from Chris—love that for him—and triumph from Nathan. Love that for me.

Then Christopher turns to me. “I’m glad it’s working out for you, Amelia. Take care.”

“You too.”

Just like that, Christopher Weaver walks out of my life again, but he takes something with him. Whatever power he had over me. It’s just gone.

I look up at Nathan. “You realize that was over the top, right?”

“Yep,” he says.

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted to beat him. I wanted you to win. I wanted to give money to the town.” None of those reasons are a declaration, but I like them all the same.

“I support it, but that was a lot.”

“It wasn’t too much for you,” he says. Then he clears his throat. “Would you like some mulled wine?”

“I would,” I say.

We get our hot drinks, and we keep on walking, until the crowd thins out, until we’re well away from them.

I know it’s time. Time for me to tell him.

Time to make my grand gesture. My declaration. Because everything has changed for me.

He changed it.

“I thought this was the main event,” I say. “I thought this was what the month of December was building to. Me finally having to confront my past in a way I haven’t wanted to. I’ve done my very best to leave it all behind. Honestly, since you came back ... everything has changed. Everything in me has changed.”

My drink warms my hands, but suddenly I feel cold. A little bit afraid. I’m making the decision. I’m doing it. I’m not letting life push me around. I am not adrift. I know what I want. I came here wounded, unable to see the future. Unable to even dream. I’m dreamingnow. I want to keep on dreaming.

I want to write the rest of my story, not just let it happen around me, not sit there staring at a blinking cursor, on hold because I’m scared.

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