“No, I don’t think he feels like he has to convince you, but maybe reassure you,” Quinn tries. “You know, put your mind at ease. Josh is a powerful, alpha guy who wants to make you happy. Maybe try to look at it that way; play along and see where it leads. He obviously has something he wants to communicate to you through this.”
“Not to mention he’s fucking hot and ridiculously sweet—remember the giant pink teddy bear he brought the first time he met Charlie?” Britt cocks her head like a know-it-all.
I smile at the memory of the hulking tattooed fighter I hardly knew meeting me and my three-year-old daughter Charlie at his private jet. His hard, inked, muscular arms were wrapped around a massive, fuzzy-soft, baby-pink bear. It was a great tactic.
I laugh out loud and shake my head. “He’s known what he’s doing this entire time!”
“Yeah, you never stood a chance,” Britt agrees.
Quinn chuckles as I surrender and unfold my letter and then read it aloud.
To my soon-to-be Mrs. North,
Some people go through their whole lives never feeling true love. Beyond near impossible odds we were brought together—call it destiny or fate, serendipity or a happy accident—we can call it whatever the fuck we want because it’s ours, and us, and belongs to no one else! I was meant to love you. And I’m so grateful to you for showing me what love really is. Now I know that love takes a lot of energy and dedication—divorce rates are sky-high, and some people give up on what they believed in—but I make this commitment to you: I will never give up on you or our love.
I will work my ass off every day to prove this to you.
And I know I’m going to blow it a million times, and someday, if you ever decide to go your own way, I’ll let you—and you’ll have no need to fear me or repercussions or revenge, no matter what happens—because I’ll remember this most amazing time we had together and I’ll remain forever thankful to you and Charlie for that gift until the day I die.
Now, with that out of the way, it’s time for me to prove my words. So during these final hours of your single life …
I dare you … forever.
With all my love,
Josh
Each word roots itself into my soul as my eyes and fingers graze over the ink and paper.
When I finally look at my companions, I see their eyes are swimming in puddles.
“Greatest guy ever,” Britt declares.
A barista stops at our table. “Excuse me, are you Sophie?”
“Yes,” I say, still lost in what I just read.
“I have these for you, compliments of Josh.” She smiles big and sets down a to-go box of flaky croissants with melted chocolate flowing from the sides. On the top of the box is a gold envelope that reads. “Sophie, Enjoy.”
“Croissants? Does he not know I have a wedding dress to stuff all of this into?” I sweep my hand across my body.
“Jesus Christ, OPEN THE ENVELOPE!” Britt explodes.
Quinn laughs at us.
I tear the end carefully, slip the paper out and read it.
“Take a taxi to the Lake Como boat landing. Further directions await.”
“Let’s go!” Quinn pushes out her chair, jumps up and grabs my arm.
Britt picks up the coffees. “And so the adventure begins.”
Chapter Six
Sophie
At the docks is a man who looks to be in his sixties sitting in an old lawn chair next to a small boat with a trolling motor. He has the look of a seasoned fisherman with his worn out jeans and Bass Pro ball cap.
“You must be Sophie,” the guy says with a thick Minnesotan accent as we approach.
“I am.”
“I’ve been waiting for you ladies. Friends call me Coors.” He shakes my hand with a firm grip. “Step aboard.”
Coors takes each of our hands to help us as we step down into the boat, then gives us each a life jacket. “I can’t remember the last time I had so many pretty ladies in my boat.”
When we’re ready, he turns over the motor and says, “Josh wanted me to remind you to enjoy the scenery.”
“Enjoy the scenery,” I echo. “Got it.”
The lake is beautiful this time of year. Fish investigate the surface of the water, and every now again you’ll be looking at the right place at the right time and see one jump right out of the water to catch its own meal. Deer dot the shoreline, nibbling on grass or tree bark. And it’s so quiet. I find I can just let every thought in my mind go.
It doesn’t take much time to reach the center of the lake, and Coors stops the vessel and shuts down the motor.
“What’s going on?” I inquire, suddenly reminded of Josh’s game. I look around, wondering what he has in store for me, but I can’t see anything out of the ordinary.
Coors reaches into a cooler and retrieves a Ziploc storage bag with a golden envelope secured inside and passes it to me. Then he gives each of us a Molson before he cracks open his own Coors can.
He smiles and shrugs. “The brews are on Josh.”
I shake my head in light and excited laughter and fish out my envelope.