Chapter Nine

Bonnie

Making dinner for Ford had become a ritual, a comforting routine that anchored me amidst the chaos of life. I'd always loved to cook, but it brought me so much more joy to do it for someone I loved who truly appreciated it. Tonight, I wanted everything to be perfect, so I decided to prepare a meal that I knew was one of his favorites: roasted chicken with rosemary and thyme, creamy mashed potatoes, and sautéed green beans.

As I moved around my small kitchen, the scent of garlic and herbs filled the air, mingling with the faint sweetness of vanilla candles I had lit around the apartment. I had set the table with my best dishes and arranged a simple centerpiece of wildflowers I had picked up at the farmer's market earlier that day. The soft glow of candlelight bathed the room in warmth, casting flickering shadows on the walls and creating an ambiance that felt both romantic and serene.

The late afternoon sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. I glanced at the clock, my heart skipping a beat with excitement and nerves. I wanted everything to be just right, not just because of the dinner, but because I had noticed Ford seemed distant lately, his mind often elsewhere. I hoped that tonight would be an opportunity for us to reconnect and for him to share whatever it was that had been weighing on him lately.

The doorbell rang, and my heart leapt. I smoothed down my dress—a simple, soft rose-colored cotton—and took a deep breath before heading to the door. When I opened it, Ford stood there, looking as undeniably handsome as always in his usual casual style, although I couldn't help but notice the faint worry lines around his eyes, which now met mine with a familiar warmth.

"Hi, sweetheart," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my cheek.

"Come on in," I replied, stepping aside to let him enter. "I hope you're hungry. I made your favorite."

He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm starving. Everything smells amazing."

I led him into my living room where the table was set, the candles flickering softly in the dimming light. He took in the setting with an appreciative nod, and I could see some of the tension in his shoulders ease.

"Wow, you've really outdone yourself," he said, his voice tinged with admiration. "It looks beautiful."

"Thank you," I said, feeling a flush of pleasure at his compliment. "I wanted tonight to be special."

We moved to the table, and I served the meal, placing a generous portion of roasted chicken on each of our plates, accompanied by a scoop of creamy mashed potatoes and a side of vibrant green beans sautéed with garlic and lemon. The food looked perfect, and as we sat down, I hoped it would be enough to help ease whatever was troubling him. Thankfully, the meat was tender and juicy, the herbs infusing each bite with aromatic warmth, while the buttery potatoes offered a perfect complement. The green beans added a fresh, crisp contrast that I thought would be nice to welcome the vibrancy of spring.

Despite the delicious meal, Ford was unusually quiet, his gaze often drifting to the window, where the last light of the day lingered on the horizon. He picked at his food more than he ate it, and I watched him with concern as we ate. The clinking of our forks against the plates filled the room, the rhythmic sound forming a backdrop to the growing tension I could sense between us. Ford pushed the last bites of his chicken around on his plate, his eyes unfocused as if lost in thought.

"Is everything okay?" I finally asked, breaking the silence. My voice was gentle, but even I could hear the worry in it.

He looked up, and I saw vulnerability in his gaze that he rarely let show. Something was definitely wrong.

"Bonnie," he began, his voice low and hesitant, "there's something I need to tell you. And I hate that I have to burden you with it."

I reached across the table, placing my hand over his, offering silent support. "You know you can tell me anything."

He sighed, his fingers tightening around mine as if drawing strength from our connection. "It's about Greer."

"Oh, no," I said, almost by reflex. The mention of her name sent a chill through me, and I nodded, urging him to continue. Greer was a part of his past that I had hoped would remain there, yet her shadow unfortunately seemed to linger in our lives.

"She came to see me," he said, his voice carrying a weight that spoke of the seriousness of the situation. "She threatened to go to the university administration about us. Even though you've transferred your work-study arrangement, she thinks she can still cause trouble."

My heart sank at his words. The idea of our relationship being scrutinized, of Ford's career being jeopardized, filled me with dread. I knew how hard he had worked to get where he was, and the thought of losing it all because of something as petty as Greer's jealousy was terrifying.

"But don't worry," he added quickly, sensing my distress. "Even if the worst happens, and I lose my job, it doesn't matter. You are far more important to me than work, Bonnie. I really mean that. I love you, and I will do whatever it takes to make our relationship work."

His declaration was meant to reassure me, but instead, it intensified my fear. The idea of him losing everything he had worked for because of our relationship was unbearable. Tears welled in my eyes, and I struggled to keep my emotions in check.

"I can't let that happen, Ford," I said, my voice trembling with the effort to stay composed. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you get fired because of me."

He shook his head, his grip on my hand firm and unwavering. "Bonnie, it's not your fault. It's Greer being petty and vindictive. We can figure this out together. I don't want to lose you."

His words were earnest, filled with a love and determination that both comforted and tore at me. But as much as I wanted to believe him, the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on my shoulders. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was dragging him down, that my presence in his life was proving more of a liability than a blessing.

"But you would only grow to resent me," I whispered, tears spilling down my cheeks despite my attempts to hold them back. "If it ever came to that, I know you would. And I couldn't bear the weight of knowing I might be the ruin of your career."

"Bonnie, please," he pleaded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Don't do this. We can find a way."

"But at what cost?" I argued, my voice breaking. "I can't be the reason you lose everything. I can't bear that responsibility. You mean too much to me."

"Then don't push me away," Ford insisted, his voice filled with urgency. "You're not responsible for what Greer does. I love you, and I want to be with you. We can face this together, I promise."

His desperation was palpable, and it felt like my heart was being ripped in two.

"I don't want to lose you, Bonnie," he continued, his voice a whisper filled with longing. "Our relationship has been the most wonderful time of my life, and I cherish every moment we've had together. I want that to continue."

His words pierced through me, igniting a flicker of hope amidst the despair. But I couldn't ignore the reality of the situation. I couldn't be selfish, not when so much was at stake.

"It's not that simple," I said, shaking my head as I uttered the words I never wanted to say. "I'm so grateful for everything we've shared, and yes, I will cherish it forever. But I have to let you go, Ford."

Disbelief etched across his features. "Bonnie, please. Don't do this. I love you."

"I love you too," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't be the one who ruins your life."

Ford stood up, his movements slow and reluctant, as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening. I could feel the tears streaming down my face, my heart breaking with each step he took toward the door.

"Bonnie, I'll always love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I hope you know that."

His words echoed in the room, a haunting reminder of what we were losing. I wanted to reach out, to pull him back and beg him to stay, but I knew it was too late. The decision had been made, and there was no turning back.

With a final, lingering glance, Ford passed his hand over his face before he turned and walked out, the door closing behind him with a finality that left me feeling hollow and alone.

The candles flickered weakly, the remnants of our meal growing cold as the night closed in around me. The warmth and coziness I'd tried to create were gone, and leaving the table, I sank onto the couch, my tears flowing freely now, each sob wracking my body with a pain that seemed endless. Had I made the right decision? Or did I just throw away the best thing that had ever happened to me?

But as much as it hurt, I knew I couldn't risk Ford's career. He had worked so hard to get where he was, and the thought of being the reason he lost everything was too much to bear. I had to protect him, even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness.

***

The days that followed were a blur of emotions, each one more painful than the last. I tried to focus on my studies, throwing myself into my work in an attempt to forget the emptiness that Ford's absence had created in my life, and the shattered pieces of my heart that tainted every moment without him.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling of loss, the sense that I had made a terrible mistake. Everywhere I looked, I saw reminders of Ford, from the cafe where we'd had lunch to the lecture halls where I used to see him teach with such passion.

I missed him more than I could put into words, missed the way he smiled at me, the way he made me feel understood and cherished. But I couldn't let myself dwell on those thoughts, couldn't let myself hope for something that was no longer possible. I'd find a way to live without him, even if it meant that I'd do so with a hole in my heart that no other man would ever be able to fill.

***

It was a cold, rainy Tuesday morning in April, and I was sitting in my business communications class, trying to focus on the professor's words. The classroom was filled with the soft hum of students typing notes on their laptops, the rain pattering softly against the windows. Despite my efforts to concentrate, my mind kept drifting back to Ford. He had been my rock, my confidant, my everything. Our relationship had been a bright spot in my life, something that made the mundane feel magical. Now, without him, everything seemed dull and colorless. I felt like I was moving through life in a haze, unable to find joy in the things that once made me happy. The rain outside was relentless, as if heaven was mourning with me.

Around me, my classmates were all diligently taking notes, their faces a mix of concentration and boredom. I felt a pang of envy at their ability to immerse themselves in the subject matter, wishing I could do the same.

Just as I was pinching myself to force myself to pay attention, the professor's voice broke through my thoughts.

"Class, we have a guest lecturer today. Please give a warm welcome to Dr. Ford Kingston, who is joining us from the Astrophysics Department."

My heart stopped. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Turning, I saw Ford enter the room through the open door. He strode forward, taking my instructor's place at the podium after shaking his hand. He looked as handsome as ever; his silver hair caught the light, and his blue eyes scanned the room, searching, until they landed on me. The mix of determination and vulnerability I saw in his gaze took my breath away.

What was he doing here? Why would he come to my class, in a department where he didn't even teach? My mind raced with questions as I tried to process what was happening.

Ford grabbed the microphone, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the lecture hall. He cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving mine, as he began to speak.

"I know this isn't my usual classroom," he began, his voice strong and steady, "but I'm here today because I have something important to say. Something that I want everyone to hear."

My heart started to race, my pulse quickening as I realized he was here for me. I didn't know what he was going to say, but the intensity of his gaze and the conviction in his voice told me it was something significant.

"There is a woman named Bonnie Kelly in this class," he continued, his eyes still locked on mine. "She's sitting right there, in fact. And I want everyone to know that I am head over heels in love with her."

A gasp rippled through the classroom, followed by a murmur of surprise and excitement. I felt my cheeks flush with heat, a mixture of embarrassment and elation washing over me.

"In fact, I want the whole world to know," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm not going to hide what I feel for her. She is the love of my life, and she is more important to me than anything."

Tears filled my eyes as I listened to his words, my heart swelling with a mixture of love and disbelief. I had thought that ending things with him was the only way to protect him but hearing him declare his love for me so publicly made me question everything.

Ford walked around from behind the podium, his gaze never wavering. "Bonnie, I published the research you helped me put together. And it worked. We succeeded. I've received an offer of funding to open the research center."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. The research center had been a dream of his, something he had worked tirelessly towards, and now it was becoming a reality.

"The thing is," he continued, his voice softening as he looked at me with a tender smile, "the offer comes from a university in Southern California. They've offered me a tenured position as well."

A gasp escaped my lips, my mind racing as I tried to process what he was saying. Southern California? Tenure? It was everything he had ever wanted, a dream job that would allow him to pursue his passions and make a difference in his field. But what did it mean for us? He was leaving Illinois, wasn't he?

Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to comprehend the implications of his words.

He began walking down the aisle towards me, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized what was happening, the world around us beginning to fade from my vision as he came closer.

"I haven't accepted the offer yet," he said, his voice steady and filled with determination. "I can't. Not until I know if you'll come with me, as my wife."

He stopped in front of me, and the classroom fell silent. I felt all eyes on us as he got down on one knee. My heart felt like it might burst from my chest, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the moment.

"Bonnie Kelly, you are my North Star," Ford continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "You shine brighter than all the other stars in the sky. You orient me, ground me, guide me. I would be lost without you. I don't care what job I have, where I live, anything—because none of it matters if I don't have you. I need you by my side to do this thing called life. Please, will you marry me?"

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a small velvet box and opened it to reveal a simple solitaire diamond ring. It was completely the opposite of the marquise antique-style ring Jonathan had given me, with all its intricate filigree and extra adornment. Instead, the single, bright, shining diamond caught the light, sparkling like the very North Star Ford had compared me to. In its simplicity, I saw Ford's heart, his love for me shining brighter than anything I had ever known.

As Ford knelt before me, his vulnerability laid bare for all to see, the sincerity in his eyes was undeniable. Tears filled my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed by the depth of his love. He was offering me everything—his heart, his future, his dreams—and I knew, without a doubt, that he was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you."

A collective gasp echoed through the room, followed by an eruption of cheers and applause that reverberated off the walls. My classmates were on their feet, clapping and cheering, their faces filled with joy and excitement.

Ford slipped the ring onto my finger, his hands steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling around us. The ring felt cool and reassuring against my skin. It wasn't just a piece of jewelry—it was a beacon of hope, a testament to the love that had brought us to this moment and would carry us forth.

Rising to his feet, he pulled me into his arms, and I knew that whatever mysterious connection it was that had drawn us together would be strong enough to hold us for a lifetime.