Page 57 of A Me and You Thing
“Yeah, sorry. The lemon sounds good to me.”
“Do you want the entire cake to be lemon or do you want to have different flavors for each layer?”
I don’t care. I could give a flying flip. But I know our wedding details are important to Bree, therefore they need to be important to me too. It’s her first wedding. She deserves all the frills.
“You don’t care, do you?”
Caught. “I’m sorry. All I care about is marrying you. The rest really doesn’t matter to me. But I want it to be perfect for you, so choose whatever you want.”
She sighs. “Okay. As long as our end goal is the same, I’m okay with that.”
Logical Bree. I enjoy the way she looks upon life. She’s very rational and composed.
I proposed a month ago. We’d only been seriously seeing each other for three months or so at that point. Once the physical side of our relationship manifested itself, things moved quickly. There were so many good reasons to marry her and frankly, none not to. Like she said, we were already halfway there. The only change will be that she’ll join me in my bedroom down the hall, we’ll have matching rings, and we’ll be legal. Don’t get me wrong, a relationship with benefits will be a huge bonus. It’s the only thing we lack right now since we decided to wait until marriage for intimacy. I know it will increase the bond between us.
But, truth be told, I’m struggling with the concept. It’s not that I don’t want her. I do. We share a soft and sweet type of love for one another. It’s nice and... comforting.
It’s just that... it’s hard to get Quinn out of my head. Even when I kiss Bree, in my mind I see Quinn. I can’t shake the image.
She’s well aware. I’ve been totally honest. She accepts me as I am, and I love her for it. It will take time, but I think she’ll heal me in ways I don’t yet realize.
Heaven knows, I need it.
Our wedding is a month away. The invitations have been sent. The venue is reserved. The wedding dress has been chosen. Josie and Jordyn’s flower girl dresses are already hanging in their closets. It’s been a flurry of activity. Bree is very efficient.
And I’m happy. I never thought I’d feel this way again. Yet, here I am, about to marry someone new, someone I have strong feelings for. I love Bree. I really do. I see why Quinn loved her. We get along well and we work well together. I love her companionship. She makes me laugh. All the time. Her wit is sharp and edgy. On the surface, everything is perfect.
My new American dream.
I’m happy. I’m thrilled. So what’s missing?
Delirious. That’s what.
I’m not deliriously happy. It weighs on me. I know what deliriously happy feels like. I had it once and I hate that I lost it. It’s ruined me for future relationships because nothing else compares. I often struggle with the thought that I’m settling, which seems so unfair to Bree. Then I remind myself that I can never recapture what I once had, so quit trying. It won’t happen.
I settle for our friendship that has gently changed over to love. It’s enough for me, more than I thought I’d ever have after losing Quinn.
Breezy, on the other hand, is literally shining with happiness. I mean, she’s practically glowing. It’s rubbing off on me. Seeing her so thrilled pleases me as well. I know we can make this work. I know we’ll make each other happy. I know we’ll grow old together and feel content in each other’s company. It might be a quiet love, but it’s still love all the same. It’s secure and feels right.
I’ve had the fireworks. I know enough to know that it’s rare, unique.
So, while I’m not all that excited about the details of our wedding, it in no way diminishes the fact that I want this marriage. Absolutely.
“Earth to Sawyer? Did I lose ya?”
I reach for her hand, bring it to my lips, kiss it, and clasp it tightly. “Sorry. Say that again.”
I give Bree my full attention as she talks flower choices and menu options. I hang on every word and offer my opinions.
“There’s one other thing I wanted to talk about,” Bree mentions.
“Okay, shoot,” I say as I lean across the table and kiss her. I do love kissing her. She responds every time. I’ve latched onto her as though she’s my lifeline, the only way back to happiness. It feels so good to love again, to live again.
Josie and Jordyn run through the kitchen, chasing each other and giggling.
“Hi, Beezy. Hi, Daddy,” Josie says. Jordyn pauses and give us each a kiss, but says nothing, as if they’re tag teaming acknowledging us.
They’re two-and-a-half now, little whirlwinds, completely involved in their imaginative play. No corner of the house is safe. To them, the living room couches are trampolines, the stairs are a mountain to climb, and the bathtub might as well be a swimming pool. They look so much like Quinn, it’s eerie. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for those two. I adore them. They’ve kept this household filled with life. Heaven knows, I needed that too.
