Page 54 of Drawn to You
She pauses, and I pull her to the side before whispering my plan to her. She glances around and nods. “No problem!”
I then go as I’ve planned, inviting all the participants to line up for a group photo while the cameraman films it.
“Just a second,” I say to the cameraman before he leaves.
Giving Connor an eye signal, which he returns with a slight nod, I then quickly go into my office and find the velvet box that I placed in my drawer a few days ago. I go straight to Britt, who’s laughing at what Connor says.
Her attention turns to me soon, as many others are doing the same. As soon as I fall on one knee in front of her, she gasps, “What’re you doing, Andrew?”
I open the box with trembling hands, and then I take a deep breath to gain a steady voice. “Brittney,” I say, my voice quivering despite my effort to remain calm. I’ve practiced this many times in the past few days, even in front of Connor. Nevertheless, I can’t recall the lines. “I would like...err…You’ve been a surprise, a blessing in my life in the past two months. You’re my sunshine and my joy. I don’t think I can enjoy life if you aren’t next to me, within my sight for even a second….”
I pause for a second to absorb her reaction. If she grimaces, then I’ll stop making a fool of myself. But all I see is a big smile despite the tears spilling onto her cheeks. She’s so adorable even when she cries. And all I want is to hold her and kiss those tears off her. I skip the lines that seem to be unnecessary anyway and get to the point, “What I’m trying to say is… will you be my wife?”
Britt’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t speak. She’s sobbing uncontrollably. Finally, she presses her hand on her chest and takes a deep breath. “Yes, Andrew! I’ll marry you!”
Thank God!If I had to wait a moment longer, I would burst with anxiety. As the audience cheers, I stand up, lifting my girl and spinning her around like a crazy person. And then I realize I’m still holding the ring, and I put her down. I carefully push the ring onto her finger and then kiss her.
Around us, camera lights flash over and over, photographing and recording the moment of joy.
Epilogue
Brittney
Ten years later
I’m teaching Yoga for Mama, a prenatal yoga class at Model Body.
“Put the heel of your right foot against your left shin. Close your palms and raise your arms above your head, lift your chin, and inhale deeply. The tree pose helps you to straighten your back and to balance,” I tell my students. Relaxation, flexibility, and deep breathing are techniques that help pregnant women relieve backache and swollen ankles and get better sleep.
Being pregnant has been my vocation in the past ten years, and thanks to that, I’ve become a pregnancy fitness expert. Since I’ve already given birth to three healthy babies, and I’m carrying my fourth, I’m qualified to teach and give advice to others. In fact, I’ve already produced a series of three prenatal exercise DVDs for distribution among the members. I’ve also designed a postnatal exercise plan aiming to restore women’s body shape without compromising their nutrition.
After the yoga class, a woman named Sara comes to me and tells me how much she enjoys my class and then asks me for an autograph. I sign on the cardboard sleeve of her DVD without hesitation.
“Can I have Mr. Adams’ signature too?” Sara asks with a big smile.
I blink for a second and nod. “Sure, give me just a second,” I say and go into my husband’s office.
Ever since KTLA broadcasted the news of our charity event ten years ago, our business thrived, and we became celebrities. Andrew’s proposal went viral on the Internet, and that wasn’t it. The paparazzi followed us once in a while and periodically posted our photos on social media with titles such as “Andrew and Brittney are Still Together,” “Gym Couple Got a Baby Boy!” and “Another Baby—This Time a Girl!” We don’t enjoy being spied on, although we don’t mind the news exposure either. Andrew often jokes that his proposal probably brought us more clients than the fundraiser itself. It also helped us successfully run our annual charity events henceforth. I’m positive it brought Sara, who’s probably not here, just for my prenatal classes.
Andrew is in his office planning for the upcoming charity workout, which is called Climbing for a Child. The participants will compete on our climber machines, and we will donate the funds to Children’s Hospital.
“Sign this, please, Andrew,” I say as I pass the DVD sleeve to him.
“What for?”
“For Sara, she’s a member and a fan.”
“Sure,” he picks up a pen and scribbles.Thanks for being a fan.
“I’m taking off,” I say. “Time to pick up the kids.”
He stands up and holds me from behind. “Are you sure you don’t want a quickie?”
I’m tempted. In fact, I can seldom say no to him, especially not when I’m pregnant. I let his hands travel over my belly and my breasts, which have become large and heavy over the years, and I wriggle my plump ass against his hard-on. And then I pull away, “No, honey. Sara is waiting outside.”
He grumbles without letting me go, “Let her wait.”
I chuckle and turn to kiss him on the lips. “Not now. It’s about time to pick up the kids.”
