Page 28 of Choosing Hope
I can’t tell you how relieved I was. It seemed as though all my Christmases had come at once. I couldn’t believe she’d agreed to marry me. Not Carlo. Me.
After our engagement, I was eager to marry Sophie as fast as possible.
The last two years had been incredible, but I was anxious. I didn’t want her to wake up one day and realize I wasn’t enough for her. No matter how often she told me she loved me.
At the back of my mind, I understood even then how perfect she and Carlo were for each other, but I also was aware my friend wouldn’t marry.
Since introducing him into our bed, Carlo still experienced moments of guilt for the relationship he’d forged with my girlfriend.
His affection for Sophie wasn’t about sex; Carlo was developing genuine feelings for her, and I believe that was part of the reason for the conversation he raised briefly while out running one morning.
“Sophie seems happy,” he observed.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, intrigued to learn where this conversation was going.
“I hope so,” I replied.
The sound of our feet on the tarmac was all I heard for a few more steps, we were only a hundred yards from our building when he spoke again.
“It’s time for me to step back.”
My feet stopped moving, his words hanging in the surrounding air.
“What? Why?”
My demand was aggressive, my tone sharp. So familiar with keeping pace with me, he automatically halted beside me. His hands rested on his muscular thighs as he panted, catching his breath.
“Don’t be obtuse; you know why,” he objected, glaring up at me, as if challenging me to disagree with him.
“Spence, if Chess were still alive, you’d have done the same thing.”
I stared at him, and even though only moments before my exertion from our exercise had me gasping for breath, with this revelation my lungs held still.
“We always knew this would happen. I can’t walk away entirely, but it’s only fair that Sophie’s given the choice.”
My ears rang with his words as he led me to the elevator in our building.
“I’m not ready,” I whispered.
He crowded me against the wall of that elevator faster than I could think, his mouth closing on mine in a hungry, passionate kiss that made all my nerve endings stand up.
“I’ll never be ready, Spence.”
The announcement of my engagement shocked my parents. My father’s disappointment in my choice of wife was abundantly clear. That he even believed he had the right to an opinion galled me. Though I still didn’t quite have the confidence to walk away.
Mum was more excited, probably at the thought of a grand party. She presented Sophie with the name of a fancy wedding planner, telling my fiancée that she’d draw up a list of guests.
I immediately tried to object, but in typical Mum fashion, she didn’t hear me.
Aside from planning our wedding, our lives were busy.
I was in the middle of setting up my investment business, and Sophie found a job working in the HR department of a graphic design company.
Personally, I would have preferred her to work with me, but she insisted on establishing her own career while keeping a shred of independence from me.
Hoping to tempt her, I frequently engaged her in conversation about setting up the HR administration side of my business.
Carlo teased me, claiming I was obsessed with my fiancée, but it wasn’t true; I just didn’t want her to meet another man and realize she could do better.
