“Tell me, sweetheart.”
“You had a Plan A—the Olympics—and it didn’t happen. So you went to Plan B, and became a lawyer. Your dream was shattered and you had to choose a new one. But me? I had Plan A. I had Broadway in the palm of my hand, but I panicked about us and let my ambition take over my life and I suddenly woke up living this awful Plan B that I never wanted. I traded the right plan for the wrong one. But it’s not too late to go back…to find work on Broadway, where I was happy, where I really felt that I belonged. And stay here…with you.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want? Are you ready to give up Hollywood? And to be clear, I’m not asking you to do that. We’re just talking.”
“I’m sure,” she said. “I didn’t tell you this, but I broke my lease when I came out here two weeks ago. I had all of my belongings shipped to a storage facility outside of Philly. I have no open projects in California. When The Philly Story is over, I’m free to do what I like.”
Preston’s heart leaped with gladness because he wasn’t expecting this. She had told him that she had returned east for him, but her actions spoke loudly, backing up her words, and he felt relieved and increasingly more hopeful for their future.
“So what do I want?” she summarized, adjusting their hands and stroking his thumb with hers. “I want you. You first. From now on, always you first, Pres.”
Her blue eyes were luminous and open, her lips saying words he’d dreamed of for so long, it almost seemed impossible that they’d finally come true. Overcome with emotion and unable to speak, he took a deep breath and nodded at her to continue.
“As long as it fits in with our life, I’d like to go back to Broadway. Donny’s ready to set up some auditions as soon as I say the word, and though I’d prefer to live in New York, I could make Philly work. I looked into the train schedules, and it’s not bad. I could commute.”
Her generosity overwhelmed him, and he squeezed her hands again, trying to let her know how much this meant to him.
She smiled—a sweet, shy grin—and continued in a softer voice. “I definitely want children. I wouldn’t mind raising them in New York, if that was okay with you. More than anything, I want to be close to your family and mine. When I’m not working, I’d like to spend weekends with our families. I want for our children to grow up with their cousins. For me, that would be ideal.”
He had tried not to talk while she was speaking, but couldn’t help himself now, his joy bubbling up from a marvelous place deep inside that had always belonged to her. “How many do you want?”
“Two or three,” she answered, her cheeks flushing pink. She shrugged, one creamy shoulder almost kissing the lobe of her ear.
“When?” he asked. “I mean…now?”
“If it happened now, that would be okay with me. But, ideally, I’d like to wait a year or two. I’d like to take a few roles first to re-establish myself in New York so that if I took some time off to be with the baby, I wouldn’t be forgotten.”
Her words made sense and filled him with happiness.
“Sweetheart, are you sure this is what you want? I need to be sure you aren’t just making these choices for me.”
“Of course I’m making them for you,” she said, beaming back at him. “And for me. For us. For our marriage. For our future family. And yes, this is what I want, Pres. This is what I want more than anything else in the world.”
The waiter stopped by with a basket of bread, and Elise dropped his hands to take a slice, placing it on her bread plate and looking up at him. “What about you?”
***
His eyes were so loving and tender, it was hard to stay seated and not round the table to sit in his lap, wind her arms around his neck, and breathe in the masculine scent that was Preston, that filled her heart with love and goodness and the sweet, sweet promise of second chances.
“I have to admit, I’m relieved you don’t want to move to California, but I want you to know that I was willing.” He paused. “I would have relocated for you if it was a deal-breaker.”
Her heart clenched, and she swallowed over the sudden lump in her throat. L.A., which had been a point of deep and fraught contention two years ago, was something he would bend on now? The very idea overwhelmed her, and she didn’t know how her heart could feel any larger or more full.
“My firm has a branch there, so I could sit second-chair on cases until I passed the bar. I looked into it…just in case it was really important to you to stay there. But I’m relieved you don’t want to.” He breathed deep and sighed, reaching across the table for her hand. “Really relieved.”