Page 45 of The Now in Forever

TWO YEARS LATER

T he bookstore is too hot and crowded, despite the cool October weather.

I can’t believe they’re all here for me.

My book came out last week, and so far, the reception has been wonderful.

Lots of tags on social media, lots of positive reviews, a starred review from Publishers Weekly .

But this is my first event, and I couldn’t ask for a better venue—my very own bookstore.

I’ve set up pink chairs and a vanity-like table with a lace cloth with a ruffle in the back. It’s whimsical and delightful. Robin, despite being nearly nine months pregnant, offered—more like insisted—on MCing the event.

“Please welcome the co-owner of Story Club and the author of My Book Boyfriend , Hattie Stevens.”

Applause erupts from the audience, along with hollers from the back coming from Anh, Michelle, and Nathan. The whole back row is filled with faces I know and love. My mom, grandma, Uncle Rob, a few local friends.

“Thank you all so much for coming.” I clear my throat and begin to read.

The air in the room shifts as he walks in, but I keep reading.

It’s hard to pick a favorite scene. I’ve spent so much loving time on them all.

But if I was forced to choose, this one where the man in the book appears is it.

I finish the scene with June stumbling into his arms but accidentally closing the book in the process, making him disappear and her hit the floor with a massive thud, right as her co-worker walks in.

“Thank you.”

The applause is almost as startling as June’s trip.

Ed, tall as an oak, in a Velvet Underground shirt, suit jacket, and ripped jeans is clapping in the back.

I catch his eye, and he gives me a wink, sending electric pulses to my toes.

We continued long distance while he finished up work on the movie, but with texts and phone calls and frequent visits.

He decided the movie biz was not for him and instead went back to focusing on his novels.

When he moved into my place, I was worried that some of the spark might go out. It’d happened to my parents, and it definitely happened with Chad, but so far, the zing between Ed and me has only intensified.

For the next hour, I sign book after book and smile for selfie after selfie. When the line dies down, Robin thanks everyone for coming. Locking the door behind the last customer, I heave a sigh of relief. Ed comes up to the table, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hey, you. Where’d the others go?”

“We’re going to meet them at The Vern.”

I smile. “Perfect.” I’m about to stand, when Ed puts another book on my table. But it’s not mine. This book has a shiny black cover. Mine is bubblegum pink.

“Mind signing one more?”

I run my hand over the cover, an interesting mix of smooth and matte. “Is this an arc of your new book?”

Ed nods. “I thought you might be interested in seeing the dedication.”

I open the hardback, and on the front page in beautiful italics, it reads:

Hattie,

First of all, without you, this book would not exist in this form. My book is infinitely better for having met you, and so is my life. Thank you for moving my plot forward, for giving my life momentum and purpose. I love you always and forever.

Will you marry me?

Ed

I read and reread the last line, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. Ed’s face is beaming.

He walks around to the other side of the table and kneels in front of me, a gorgeous antique ring in his hand.

“Hattie. Will you marry me?”

I’m nodding, but words won’t come. Of all the things I expected from today, this was not one of them.

Ed slips the ring on my finger, and I find my voice. “Yes!”

He stands and pulls me up with him. We kiss, my first kiss with my fiancé.

“Come on.” He takes my hand.

I grab my bag, and we run through the streets of Fortune Falls like the kids we were so many years ago.

Passing couples holding hands, a man walking a dog, a woman with a stroller, so many pumpkins with carved faces lighting our way.

We run right into the bar to the back patio, where our family and friends are gathered, hummus plates and several bottles of red wine open on the table.

Ed pulls me close. Fiddling with the ring on my finger, he whispers in my ear, “We can put this away. We don't have to tell them today.”

I kiss him on the mouth to some whoops and whistles from our friends. When we break away, I say softly, “Fuck that.”

I hold up my hand like it’s a prize trophy. “We’re engaged!”

Ed clasps my hand, beaming. “She said yes!”

The crowd bursts into cheers. Ed squeezes my hand, and I feel it all. Warmth, love, safety, lust—all pulsing from the warm palm of his hand.

Ed is my person, and soon he’ll be my husband. We pass the night drinking with friends, celebrating my book and our engagement.

After the stars have come out and the night has chilled, Ed and I walk home hand in hand, a rosy glow on his cheeks. The orange leaves blow down the street, pumpkins flash, and the air smells of campfires, orange, and clove.

“When did you have to turn in that dedication?”

Ed smiles. “In June.”

“June? You’ve known you were going to propose for months?”

Ed stops and takes my face gently in his hands. “Hattie, I should’ve never let you go the first time, and I won’t ever make that mistake again.”

We kiss, and the street falls away behind us. All that exists is Ed, me, and this moment. The now in our forever love story.

The End