Page 91 of When the Walls Come Down
“Another gift, Peach? You know how competitive I am with gift-giving.”
But this wasn’t a cardboard box or even a bag; it was more like a small chest. She slid it across the countertop to me, climbed onto the marble beside me, and then said, “Open it.”
The front had a little latch, and I flipped it up to see what was inside. “It’s empty.”
There were tears in her eyes when I was finally confused enough to look into them for some clarity.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Warren.” A tear slipped down her face, and seeing her show so much emotion had my chest tightening.
“Hey, Peach. Don’t cry.”
Her head fell into my palm when I soothed the wetness away. “They’re happy tears,” she confessed. “My mom had a chest kind of like this one. And when we were born, she’d etched all our names into it. I always thought that, had it not been for us, she would have lived this grand life of adventures and success and a whole list of things that she never got to do. But now…” She choked up and took a breath, the waterworks still beautifully pouring from her brilliant, blue eyes.
“Take your time.” I kissed her shoulder because she’d also cleverly worn a shirt that hung off of it. She knew what I liked, and I knew it was no accident.
“Sorry. Now that I know what it’s like to love you, I know that when she put us—our names—inside of it, we were her adventures and her happiness and her love, not her shackles.” She pointed to a spot inside the open lid. It read: Shane Phillip Warren. “You’re my happiness, and I want to fill this box full of memories—with you.” Then, just like the fiery Southern I’d fallen in love with the first night I’d met her, she arched a brow and added, “But I have some conditions.”
I held my hand up for her to pause.
It felt like a good time to interject with something that had been on my mind before she went any further. “Peach, I won’t ever rush you. I know what I said on Saturday. And you have to believe me—I was just so excited and you make me so fucking happy too and I just got caught up in everything in my life finally moving again.” That was a lot of it, but she deserved the full explanation. “See, the first time I got married, I was so young. It was stupid, but that was what she’d wanted, and at twenty-one, I thought I was never going to find anyone else who’d want me. Really. And then she just wanted more and more. The big house and the kids and this whole fucking life that I didn’t even feel a part of but was always being told I wanted. So I just kept feeling like I was failing. Falling short. Not good enough. And when she cheated on me, I thought that my shortcomings were why. And then I sort of locked up, and over the past few years, I got better. I got myself together, but a few weeks ago when everything started changing and I met you, I thought that I needed to give you all those things I wasn’t able to give her. Because, Goddamn it, I just want you.”
A weight lifted off my back. I’d never said any of that to anyone, but she had to know the truth.
Maggie’s face bunched up. “She sounds like a stupid bitch.”
I nodded. “Yeah, kinda.” Like one hundred percent. “But that shouldn’t have anything to do with us. So I need you to know that, yeah, I do want all of that stuff with you, but none of it has to be today or tomorrow or next month or next year, and also, we can always change our fucking minds. I don’t care. We just have to be us for me to be happy.”
She pushed the box down the counter so that she could scoot closer to me, and then she looped her arms around my neck.
“So now. These conditions of yours?”
She pressed a quick peck to my lips. “Number one: I don’t want to skip steps. Not because I’m not sure I want to be with you. I just don’t want to miss anything.”
“Done. We’ll do every step twice for all I care. What else?” I pulled her closer, by the hips.
“We always talk to each other face-to-face about big stuff. I know you hate that balcony, so no more walls. For the foreseeable future, that means we spend the night at either my place or yours.”
That didn’t sound economical at all. “But that—”
She interrupted. “No skipping steps. I’m in love with you. Probably every single time I’m with you, I fall a little more, but we’re both new at this and I’d like to be your girlfriend who lives next door for a while. I happen to kind of like it.”
