Chapter Seven

Bonnie

The unseasonably warm day in March was like a gift, a preview of the summer that lay just beyond the stretch of final exams and graduation ceremonies. The sun shone brightly over the university campus, and the air felt alive with the promise of spring. Ford and I decided to take advantage of the weather, leaving behind the four walls of our offices and taking our box lunches from the campus cafe out into the open air to eat. I followed him along a winding path leading up a hill away from the noisy quad where students were gathered eating and playing games of frisbee, and I watched as the sunlight caught in his silver hair, which looked especially striking against the deep blue of his shirt.

As we climbed higher, the sounds of campus life faded away, replaced by the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. The hillside overlooked a sprawling green meadow dotted with early spring flowers—yellow daffodils and purple crocuses peeking through the grass. Beyond the meadow, the city stretched out in a haze of soft pastels, the buildings gleaming under the bright sun.

"This looks like the perfect spot," Ford said, gesturing to a small clearing beneath a large oak tree. The tree's branches provided a patchwork of shade and sunlight, and I nodded in agreement, feeling grateful for the natural beauty surrounding us. We settled down, the distance between us filled with a tension that hummed like an electrical current between two poles. Unwrapping my sandwich, I peeked over at Ford's choice—an Italian sub, brimming with salami, pepperoni, and a peppering of olives that made my mouth water by proxy. I had opted for something simpler, turkey and Swiss on rye, but the first bite tasted like decadence when paired with the stolen glances I threw his way.

"Good?" Ford inquired, catching me mid-gaze.

"Delicious," I murmured, though the flavor on my tongue felt bland compared to the complexity of my feelings. The warmth of Ford's eyes on me left my skin tingling and my heart racing as always. It was foolish to feel this way, dangerous even, but how could I not? It was unsettling, this acute awareness I had of him, the way his presence seemed to fill the space around me. I took another bite of my sandwich, hoping the act of eating would distract me from the tumult of emotions swirling inside.

"I've always liked this spot," Ford said between bites, his gaze sweeping over the landscape. "It's peaceful, away from the bustle of everything."

"It's beautiful," I agreed, allowing myself a moment to simply enjoy the view. The sunlight played on the leaves above, casting dappled shadows on the ground, and we ate in silence for a few moments.

"Bonnie," Ford said after swallowing a drink from his can of pop, "you're quiet today."

"Am I?" I asked, fiddling with my napkin. The encounter with Greer at the coffee shop had been weighing on me, and I knew I couldn't keep it from Ford any longer.

"There's something I need to tell you," I began, my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach. "Greer asked to meet with me not long ago."

Ford paused, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. "What did she want?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"She wanted to talk about you," I admitted, setting my sandwich down and clasping my hands together. "She asked me to meet her at a cafe, and demanded to know if you were seeing anyone. She said she wanted you back, that your breakup was all a misunderstanding."

"Ah." Ford leaned back on his hands, looking out over the campus with narrowed eyes. "I'm sorry she involved you in this mess. That wasn't fair."

"Your past is your own, Ford, but secrecy isn't how I operate, and I didn't want…" I cut myself off, realizing I was rambling.

"Thank you, Bonnie," Ford said sincerely, turning those piercing blue eyes back to me. "For being upfront. I appreciate it more than you know."

"Greer seems like she's from a different world," I commented, reaching for my orange.

He chuckled dryly. "That's one way to put it. She was born into money, never had to worry about much except which silver spoon to use."

"Did that bother you?" I asked tentatively.

"Bother me? Nah." Ford shook his head. "Not really. What bothered me was when she suggested her father could just... finance our life together. As if I'd marry into a bank account rather than a partnership."

"Greer offered her family's money?" The idea felt so foreign, so at odds with the Ford I knew.

"More times than I care to remember." He ran a hand through his silver hair, frustration lining his face. "I told her, right from the start, that I wasn't going to be either her sugar daddy or her kept man. I want to earn my way, build my own legacy without handouts. I thought she understood that."

"But she didn't?" I asked tentatively.

"No." Ford shook his head, his expression darkening. "And that's why we're no longer engaged. I can't be with someone who doesn't get that…someone who doesn't share those values."

"Shared values are crucial," I agreed as Jonathan's image came into my mind, making me feel suddenly unsettled.

Ford picked at the corner of his sandwich, his gaze drifting off toward the horizon while the sun played peekaboo behind thin clouds.

"There's more to the story," he started, his voice suddenly earnest,

A knot formed in my stomach. I stopped peeling my orange, suddenly not so hungry, aware that Ford's confidence didn't come lightly. "You can tell me, whatever it is. I promise not to repeat it."

He gave me a small smile and nodded, looking down at his hands briefly before taking a deep breath.

"It's all right. Most people know anyway. At least everyone in my department. It's just embarrassing. Last year, out of the blue, I was approached by an investor interested in funding my research center. It was like a dream to be honest. I poured weeks into preparing a business plan, met with this man repeatedly, shared all my hopes and ideas."

The way he spoke, it was as if he was reliving each moment, each betrayal. My heart ached for him.

"Turns out, the guy was just a front, a puppet for one of Greer's father's business entities." His jaw clenched visibly, and he looked away. "They were behind it all along. Greer thought once I had the center up and running, I wouldn't care where the money came from."

"Oh my god. Ford, I'm so sorry," I whispered, reaching out to touch his hand. The contact sent a shiver through me, though the sun bore down on us unwaveringly. "That's...it's manipulative and wrong."

"Trust," he said, meeting my eyes again, "is the foundation of everything, Bonnie. Without it, what do we have?" There was a vulnerability in his gaze that I'd never seen before.

"Nothing," I replied softly. "Trust is everything. And shared values...They're not just words; they're what hold us together when everything else falls apart."

"Exactly," he affirmed, a smile flickering across his lips. "It's reassuring to know someone understands that."

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. "Well, I may not know much, but I do know that much is true."

We shared a laugh, and in that moment, with the gentle breeze rustling through the grass around us, I couldn't help but feel like maybe, just maybe, there were more shared values between us than I'd dared to admit.

"Ford," I ventured, emboldened by his honesty. The words tumbled out before I could stop them, "What would you do if I wasn't engaged?"

He looked at me, a hint of surprise flickering in those deep blue eyes before his lips curled into an unexpected smile.

"I'd marry you," he quipped with such ease that for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. His words took me aback, and a jolt of shock ran through me. Ford seemed equally surprised by his response, and he cleared his throat, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "Hypothetically speaking, of course," he added hastily. "I know you're marrying Jonathan. But truthfully, you're a wonderful woman, Bonnie Kelly. Just the kind of woman I'd want to marry someday."

His admission left me speechless. The simple sincerity in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, igniting something within me that felt reckless and daring. I knew I should steer us back to safer waters, but Ford's candid confession echoed in my ears, stirring up feelings I had no right to indulge. I looked away, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. Silence stretched between us, filled only by the rustling of leaves and the distant chatter of other students on the campus below.

"Thank you, Ford," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his gaze returned to me, heavy and warm, leaving me feeling exposed under the afternoon sun. "For thinking so highly of me."

"Bonnie…" he started, then paused, as if searching for the right words. "It's simply the truth."

I smiled, a little sadly, acknowledging the impossible thoughts swirling in my mind.

"Let's finish our lunch, shall we?" I suggested, eager for a distraction from the turmoil inside me. But as I reached for my sandwich, my hand brushed against his, setting off a spark that threatened to ignite the tinderbox of emotions I was so desperately trying to contain.

***

The whisper of silk and tulle swirled around me like a symphony as I stepped out of the changing room. The Chicago bridal salon was a cream-and-gold dream, every surface gleaming with the promise of eternal love, and every corner filled with the rustle of gowns waiting for their moment in the sun.

"Bonnie, you can't possibly still be undecided. It's March already," my mother fretted, her voice threaded with the urgency that had been building since the moment Jonathan slipped that diamond on my finger.

"I know, Mom, I just…" I began, cutting myself off as I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror.

"Good heavens, Bon, look at you!" My mother's hands fluttered to her mouth, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

I took a deep breath and stepped onto the podium, the ballgown blooming around me, layers upon layers of delicate fabric cascading down in a frothy waterfall of ivory. The consultants, sensing a pivotal moment, began to clap, their excitement a tangible thing filling the room.

"Isn't she stunning?" one of them exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

But as their applause washed over me, a sudden, overwhelming tide of emotion surged up from deep within. My vision blurred, and without warning, hot tears began spilling down my cheeks.

"It's perfect," I whispered, my voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of my heart fracturing against my ribs.

My mother reached for my hand, her own shaking slightly. "Oh, Bonnie," she said softly, a world of understanding in those two words. There, under the glittering lights and the adoring gazes, I couldn't escape the truth that clung to me like the train of the dress I wore—a truth that was far more tangled than any lace or beading could ever be.

Turning to face my mother, I saw that her own eyes were brimming with tears. She reached up and gently tucked a lock of my hair back behind my ear.

"Sweetheart," she whispered, "you're in love with Ford, aren't you?"

Her words hung in the air between us. It was undeniable. I felt exposed, seen in a way that left no room for pretense or denial.

"Yes," I admitted, the confession slipping from me like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. "Yes, Mom, I am."

She nodded, a sad smile curving her lips. "I knew it was just a matter of time before you figured it out yourself." She took a deep breath, composing herself with the poise that I'd always admired. "Don't worry about a thing, sweetheart," she said with a reassuring squeeze of my hand. "I'll call the wedding planner and take care of everything."

Every word she spoke lifted a weight off my shoulders, each syllable untangling the knots of anxiety that had tightened around my heart.

"Mom," I began, but she shook her head gently, silencing me with a look that said she understood everything that lay unspoken between us.

"Bonnie," she said, her voice firm yet full of love, "you know what you have to do."

I nodded, the ballgown feeling suddenly like a costume meant for someone else's life story. In that moment, the decision was made. It was time to step out of the dress and into my truth, whatever that might mean for my future.