Page 84 of Marrying the Gardener
Whatever’s going on, it’ll be fine.
Bolstering, I march toward the steps, freezing in place when, “Rose-red,” drifts from the gardens behind me.
Tension fills my limbs. Clenching my fists, I brace myself as I turn and find Kaleb, shrouded by an overflowing bouquet of red and white roses. Breath leaves me as a sight I’ve never seen before presents itself. He’s…scruffy.
Exhausted.
Kaleb.
My Kaleb.
Tired eyes hit me, and a smile softens the weariness in his expression. “Look at you,” he murmurs, crossing the drive to meet me. Settling the bundle of roses in one arm, he reaches for me, combs his fingers through my hair, and sighs. “My wife.”
Unbidden, my fingers find his, pressing his warmth into my skin. “Technically…we’re in the middle of a divorce…”
He nods. “I got the papers on Tuesday. In about a month, we’ll be free to do things the right way.”
The right way…
With a wedding.
And love.
And hope of a future together…right?
If I’m so painfully honest with myself, I don’t want to go to Alaska. I want to marry Kaleb and live without the dark cloud of my father’s control hanging over me. Hesitant, I whisper, “Did…your plan work? Can you tell me about it now?”
His smile stretches. Taking my hand, he twists, guiding methrough the gardens he tends as though he owns them. After a few minutes, he brings me to a pond that stretches beneath dozens of weeping willow branches. Koi fish that I’ve only ever heard about kiss the surface, chasing leaves and bugs. Kaleb draws me over a bridge that bisects the water and into a cool pavilion with a mermaid fountain covered in lush ivies. The soft burble eases some of the anxiety threatening to cut off my air supply.
Without notice, Kaleb drops to one knee before me.
My eyes widen. “Are you proposing?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because? It’s part of doing things correctly and marrying you for love?”
“But we’re not even divorced yet, and I’ve already said I’d marry you again properly. There’s no reason you need to propose to me.”
“I want to.”
I blink. Never mind. That’s a good reason. Shifting my weight from one heel to the other, I say, “Am I supposed to stand a certain way?” My heart lightens, and I nearly choke on the burst of hope that hits me. “Does this mean that your plan worked? Are we going to be free?”
Joy warms his beautiful hazel eyes. “You’re already free, Crimson.”
“Already?” I whisper.
He dips his chin.
“How?”
“I did a hard thing, for both of us. And I need you to not be mad.”
I stiffen. “Why would I be mad? Don’t tell me… You have used the Bachelors, even though I’ve told you countless times not to?” Before he can answer, a woman squeals.
Jumping, I turn to look toward the banks across the bridge and find—Daria?
