Page 171 of Fall I Want
We make small talk until the fifteen-minute mark. As if I can predict Autumn’s moves, I turn to Harper. “Do you have the final piece?”
She nods and returns with a pair of clear high heels that were made for my wife. A few seconds later, I hear the thick bedroom door snap closed.
“She’s coming,” I whisper, holding the shoes behind my back. “Hide.”
They scatter around and Autumn rounds the corner, grinning. Our eyes immediately meet and she pauses, taking me in before she approaches. I stand a little taller. “Hi, beautiful.”
“Hi,” she says, lifting her dress to show her bare feet.
“There is one problem,” she explains.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“What shoes do I wear? I tried on every pair I have.”
When she’s in front of me, I drop to my knees, revealing her glass slippers. “Will they be a match?” I grab her ankle, then put one shoe on and then the other.
“You’ve covered it all.” She laughs, looking down at them. “Perfect fit.”
“Meant to be.” I wrap my arms around her and our lips slide together.
A confetti cannon goes off and Autumn jumps. I hold her tighter against me as her eyes widen.
“SURPRISE!” everyone shouts, jumping from their hiding places.
“Oh my God,” she says, holding her chest. “I was fucking scared!”
“Curse jar!” Julie yells.
“How’d you pull it off?” she asks. “I didn’t hear anyone coming or going!”
“Magic,” I tell her. Harper walks over with a single cupcake and a candle. I take it from her and move closer to Autumn as our closest friends and family sing her “Happy Birthday.”
“Make a wish, Pumpkin,” I whisper when the song ends. She meets my eyes before closing hers. The candle lights her face, and then, with a single whoosh of breath, it’s out.
She smiles.
“Was it a good one?” I ask as the lights flip on.
“The best,” she tells me, swiping her finger across the chocolate cream. She places it in her mouth. “This is from that bakery.”
“Cakes from that place are a tradition. One my mom started. Harper always delivers it by hand, no matter where I am in the world. Gifting sentimental things that mean something to her is her love language,” I explain as everyone approaches us.
Autumn finishes licking the icing from the top, and it’s fucking erotic as she looks into my eyes as she does it. I slowly shake my head and she grins like a little devil. As Autumn exchanges hugs with friends and family and compliments everyone’s costumes, I take a step back and snap photos of smiling faces.
When we’re eighty, I’m sure we’ll talk about how young and in love we were. I never want to forget these moments. They’re the ones I cherish the most. Champagne glasses are passed out and several bottles are opened.
Her dad holds up his flute. “Happy birthday, Autie. We love you.”
“Happy birthday.” I wrap my arm around her waist. “Are you happy?”
“The happiest,” she says, grinning.
When everyone’s glass is emptied, Harper claps her hands,always keeping everyone on schedule. “We should probably get going! There is a ball we have to attend.”
I guide Autumn to the front door.
She steps outside and freezes at the sight of the white horses pulling a golden pumpkin carriage.
