Round 32

W illiam turned, his gaze locking onto my ex-boyfriend, who stared at us.

“What’s he doing here?” William asked.

“I… I don’t…” I stammered, unable to catch up with what my eyes were seeing.

One of Raggedy Andy’s members passed Patrick a mic.

No. No. What is this?

“Ahem, hello,” Patrick greeted the crowd before turning his attention directly on me.

Beside me, William released a long grumble. Everyone else in the club returned Patrick’s greeting.

My beating heart changed gears from excitement to panic at the same speed as my racing thoughts. I couldn’t slow it down enough to make sense of it. But I didn’t need to because Patrick cleared his throat and spoke again.

“I’ll keep it quick. Thanks for the opportunity, everyone. I’m here because I’m an idiot.”

He paused and laughed, and a few members of the audience joined him. “I’m an idiot because I had the most amazing woman in my life, and I lost her.”

Patrick’s gaze met mine, and I looked at my feet, at my hands, at Neema and Shaun—everywhere except at the man onstage or the man standing next to me.

“Babe.” He walked toward the edge of the stage and waited for me to look up.

I didn’t want to, but the gaze of every person in the room bore into me, waiting for my response. Reluctantly, my eyes met Patrick’s.

“I know I never showed you love in the way you wanted. I know you wanted me to love you openly and publicly. So here I am, in front of most of your friends and an uncomfortable number of strangers, and I’m asking you to come back.”

A collective “aww” went through the crowd.

Hopping off the stage, Patrick advanced toward me. I took a step back, my eyes scanning the room for an escape.

Patrick stopped in front of me. “We’re perfect for each other. My parents love you, and I know yours love me too. We have the same goals—let’s achieve them together. I want you to be there for the promotions and the birthdays. I want the house in the ’burbs, and the 1.75 kids with two cats and a dog, all named after fictional characters.”

The crowd laughed, but I was frozen under a literal spotlight and withering away as the sole focus of Patrick’s attention.

Dropping to one knee, Patrick looked up at me with an intent expression. “Babe, let’s tick off one of your Life Goals. Rose Marie Jones, will you marry me?”

My heart froze. Goose bumps flared across my skin.

The music stopped but there was noise in my ears and a brightness in my eyes I couldn’t shake.

Patrick pulled out a ring box and exposed a shiny gold ring with a diamond so big I was unsure I would be able to lift my hand if I wore it.

This couldn’t be real.

And I couldn’t tell if it was a dream or a nightmare.

The words I’d been dying to hear for so long filled me with sinking dread that would have brought me to my knees if Patrick hadn’t stood up a second later.

“Patrick.” My voice cracked through my tightened throat. “How are you even here?”

He gave the mic to someone and took my hand. “Babe, I may have always been distracted, but I was listening. You’ve been planning this night for ages, and our calendars are still linked.”

“Patrick,” I tried again, willing my voice to stay with me.

Before I could finish my sentence, he kissed me, right on the mouth.

The crowd cheered, but my body recoiled. The feel of his once-familiar lips was cold and odd on my own. They were neither the shape I expected nor the ones I desired. I pulled away.

“Don’t answer, okay? Not here, not now. Nothing good ever comes from a spontaneous decision, right?” he said, using my own words against me. “Go home, make your pros and cons spreadsheet, then say yes.”

His smile was wide and confident, a smile I knew all too well. He handed me the ring and kissed me on the cheek.

“Say yes,” he said again, and then turned and left me standing in a stunned stupor.

Neema stepped beside me and gently touched my arm. “Hon?”

I turned to her, my eyes already stinging with tears. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was planning that. I didn’t mean to steal your thunder. This was supposed to be a night about you, and all of us having fun together.” I took a deep, steadying inhale but it did not help.

“Please!” She waved a hand. “Patrick couldn’t steal my thunder even if he tried.” She offered me a soft smile. “It’s not like you knew.”

But my mother knew. She could have been far more honest with me. Rage bubbled inside me, and I focused on calming my breathing. Years of therapy had unraveled in literal minutes.

“I’d like to go home,” I said. “But I want you to stay and have fun.”

I needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Party’s over, and we have to be up really early tomorrow.” She wrapped her arm around me. “Let’s go home together.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded and gestured for Shaun to come over.

“We’re heading home,” she told him.

“Of course, yeah.” Shaun leaned in, checking on me. “Did any of you see where William went?”

The mention of William made my legs wobbly. I scanned the room, but he was nowhere in sight. He’d probably seen all of it, including the kiss. I shuddered like a leaf.

Neema dragged me outside toward her car, and I settled inside with a heavy heart.

“Did you say yes?” she asked as she buckled her seat belt.

I knew she’d support whatever decision I made. I turned the ring box around in my hands. “No.”

“Did you say no?”

“No.”

She bit her lip and gave my knee a squeeze. My brain went into overdrive and autopilot simultaneously. I had no idea how I got into my pajamas or into bed that night, or even whether I showered or not. The only thing I was aware of was the ring box still clutched in my hand, the edges pressing into my palm. The sound of Patrick’s voice proposing to me replayed over and over in my brain. When I closed my eyes, I once again saw the smile on his face and the moment I’d planned a lifetime around.

And it happened. It was real. So why didn’t I say yes?

There was no point in trying to sleep. My phone flashed with concerned messages from Claire. Neema and Lincoln had already told her everything, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it.

Powering on my laptop, I opened my Life Goals spreadsheet.

I was supposed to get married soon. Patrick’s name was still on my spreadsheet—I hadn’t bothered updating it after our breakup.

My eyes drifted over my career goals, and the already big hole in my stomach grew, eating into my other organs until I was sure the acid churning inside me would burn right through the flesh and muscle.

My career goals meant nothing anymore.

How was this happening when all I ever wanted was a simple, standard life?

The same life Patrick was now offering me.

With shaking hands, I opened a blank spreadsheet.

Pros:

We have history, mostly good history

Handsome

Motivated

I like his family

He wants kids

Well-mannered

Likable

Stable

In line with my Life Goals

Knows how to apologize

Always buys me treats

Buys my friends treats

Knows how to use an Oxford comma

The list went on and on.

My mind raced through a handful of cons, but there was only one important, impossible to overcome reason holding me back. One tall, angry, handsome reason, but I was too afraid to type it out. Because typing it out meant facing something I’d been ignoring, which would complicate the already difficult game we were playing.

But eventually I did.

Cons:

He isn’t William

With two clicks, I deleted my pros and cons list and my entire Life Goals spreadsheet.

None of those goals involved William.

If life were truly a game, I finally knew who I wanted to play it with.