Round 37

I stayed up all night—not because of the conversation with my mother, but because the couch was lumpy and soft in all the wrong places.

Okay, it had something to do with the conversation with my mother.

Deciding there was no use tossing and turning on the uncomfortable couch, I got up early with the intention of finishing up a load of candles before lunchtime.

And I did. Far before lunchtime.

And that is how I found myself outside Patrick’s office at exactly midday after texting him to let him know I was coming.

The doorman greeted me when I entered, and I had a visceral reaction as I remembered the last time I’d seen him. While I regretted every bit of that night that took place in this office… I didn’t regret a moment after.

I caught a glimpse of Patrick out of the corner of my eye. He waved and called out to me.

“I’m glad you came,” he said.

I nodded, squeezing my fist around the ring box in my pocket and swallowing the ring box–sized lump in my throat.

He held up brown paper bags and the scent of the butter chicken and ramen combination wafted toward me. “Lunch on the roof?”

One last time.

I nodded and followed him to the elevator. He looked me up and down after we stepped inside. “Casual Monday?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Of course Patrick was wearing a beautifully ironed white shirt with a pair of beige chinos. Every strand of hair was in place, and he already looked every bit the COO he would end up being. I shrugged, clicking my red sneakers together and wishing I could go home.

We sat on a bench with a great view overlooking the city and the office block where I used to work.

He smiled and handed me the container of ramen and the cutlery. “I haven’t been up here in ages. I forgot I could see your building from here.”

“Not my building anymore,” I blurted, then shoved a forkful of ramen into my mouth before I could say anything further.

Patrick froze. “What?”

I finished chewing and then swallowed before answering. “I resigned.”

“I figured. I’m just confused. Why?”

“I didn’t want to work there anymore.”

His nose crinkled, and he gave me his most unimpressed expression. “Well, obviously. But I meant, why? Why don’t you want to work there? It’s a great company, plus you’re definitely going to get that promotion as soon as you finish your MBA.”

I nodded and then changed direction by shaking my head. “Yeah, uhm… I hated it. I really hated it, but you already know that. So, uh… I don’t care that it’s a good company, and I care even less about being promoted.” I slurped up more ramen, and it dripped down my chin. I grabbed a napkin and wiped it.

My mind jumped to the day I had sat on the couch eating ramen with William. The way he’d placed my aching ankle on his lap—it was the first time he’d ever really touched me, and the first time I’d ever really seen him. Had it only been a few months ago?

Patrick shook his head. “Well, okay. Where are you moving to?”

I smiled, preparing him for my next answer. “Nowhere.”

“What do you mean? Are you leaving without having anything lined up? Tell me you have a few interviews, at least.” His cheeks puffed up, and his eyebrows folded into a frown. “What about your Life Goals?”

“I know what I don’t want, and I didn’t want that.”

He swallowed his last bite and placed the empty container back into the brown paper bag. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not only talking about M&G?” His voice softened, and a broken smile flashed across his face. “You’ve been awfully quiet since Friday.”

My throat tightened. “I don’t want to marry you. I’m so sorry.”

He nodded, his eyes turning shiny. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, anything.”

“If I’d done it differently—if I’d come to more game nights or if I’d pulled you into my office that night and locked the door—if I’d made you a priority back then, would it have changed things?”

Gazing off in the general direction of my old office building, I shook my head. “No, it wouldn’t have.” I glanced back at Patrick, knowing he needed the truth but not wanting to hurt him—which was exactly why I hadn’t answered his proposal sooner. “I think it would have delayed the inevitable. We weren’t meant for each other.”

My heart beat in time with the words flowing through my mind: I was meant for another.

Standing, Patrick rubbed his hands over his face and composed himself.

I continued. “Soon, you’ll meet someone who excites you as much as your work, and you won’t need to try to remember her. She’ll be there on your mind all the time, and she’ll be lucky to have you.”

I meant every word because I finally knew what that feeling was like—and it wasn’t this.

Digging into my pocket, I retrieved the ring box and handed it to him. “Thank you for everything, but I should go.” I stood and made my way toward the exit.

“Rose,” he called.

I paused.

“Did you ever make that spreadsheet?”

“Of course I did.”

“I had that many cons?” He brought his hand up and placed it over his heart, feigning hurt.

“Just one.” I sighed, surprising myself with the words I was about to say. “Excel can’t solve everything.”

He bowed his head as I left.

I hurried out of his building, preparing myself for an onslaught of regret.

But it never came.

The birds were still chirping, and the person struggling to parallel park was still struggling.

And I was still undeniably in love with William Ashdern.

And I wouldn’t survive a minute longer without telling him this.

I rushed over to William’s apartment and knocked on the door, but no one answered. I tried calling, but his phone was off. Eventually, I called Shaun, who was still at work.

“I’m looking for William. Can you tell me where he is?”

“Oh… Uh, I can’t,” Shaun replied.

“Help me,” I said, pulling out the last syllable. “You owe me.”

“I owe him too,” Shaun grumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s at work. He’s working on something really urgent and struggling to meet a super-important deadline.” Shaun sounded almost proud of his brother.

“William?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t think you understand,” I said into the phone as I walked back down to the car. “I need to see him. When is the earliest I can see him?”

“Sit tight. I’ll pass on your message, but just go home and… wait. Just a bit longer.”

I ended the call and went straight to my apartment, where everyone was still huddled around the candles.

My mind was clearer than it had been in ages.

I gobbled down half a pizza while wearing a blanket as a cape after my mother helped me pin it on. I was not far from twenty-seven years old, with no money and no prospects, and I was not frightened. Not in the least. For the first time in my life, I knew exactly what I wanted.

I wanted William Ashdern. All of him. Every last bit of him.

And I hoped he wanted me too.

“Rosie,” my mom called, “if we’re going to finish the last of these candles, I’ll need more of your help. Remember when we made candles together when you were nine or ten?”

“I was five, but yes.” I joined her at the kitchen counter. “Don’t these usually go faster?”

“Mm-hmm, but I’ve decided to write ‘Shaun & Neema’ and their wedding date on each jar.”

“Mom,” I whined, “that’s going to take forever.”

“Well, I already started on the jars, so I have to follow through.” She smiled down at her own work. “Look at my darling calligraphy.”

I opened the scented oils, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and lavender. It reminded me not only of my childhood but also of William. It was as if I’d walked straight into William’s familiar arms.

“Mom, this smell, it’s amazing. I want a few candles for myself, please.” I pictured William as I spoke, thinking about the way I felt around him. Not only the way he made my body feel, but how happy I’d been. How me I’d been. It blew my mind how William had etched himself into my every fiber in such a short space of time.

My mother narrowed her eyes. “You’re a clown, you know that?”

“It’s a compliment, Mom. I like this smell. Is it pine and… lavender?”

“Wrong. Rosemary and lavender. It’s your signature scent, Rosie. There’s a subtle difference, but I thought you’d know it. We had rosemary-and-lavender-scented everything when you were growing up.”

I didn’t hear anything else she said because all I could think about was that William smelled of rosemary and lavender.

“How’s work been, sugar?” my dad asked while scrolling through the daily news. “I’m glad you’re using your vacation days.”

Neema burst out laughing.

I grinned. “I forgot to tell you that I resigned, and my last day was Friday. So I’m actually unemployed.”

My mother wrapped her arms around me as though I’d announced I’d been promoted. “Oh, Rosie! I’m so pleased and proud of you—for doing what’s right by you.”

“Mom, you don’t know the half of it.”

If my sweet-natured mother ever found out about Mr. Markham, I was fairly certain he would mysteriously disappear.

“I also rejected Patrick’s proposal today,” I added.

My mom pulled me in for another hug, tighter than the last.

“I knew you would,” Neema said.

“How?” I fiddled with the wick of the candle in my hand.

“You may be able to fool yourself, but you can’t fool me.” She beamed.

“I knew too.” My mom nodded. “Patrick wasn’t the one.”

“How’d he take it?” Neema asked.

“It was pleasant and weirdly sad, but better than the initial breakup.”

“You see?” Neema spread her arms wide. “Even Patrick expected it.”

“Do you love him, Rosie?” my mother asked, her hand firmly on my slouched back.

I straightened. “I just told you I rejected him.”

“Do you love William, Shaun’s mean brother?” My mother smiled her soft and calming smile. “Neema filled me in while you were out.”

I glared at Neema.

“What?” Neema held up both hands in surrender. “She guessed it. I confirmed it.”

“So you do love him.” My mom nodded.

“With every part of me,” I said without hesitation after having kept those words inside my chest for the longest time. “I love him more than I knew possible, and I don’t know what to do with all of it. He asked me to wait, and I want to respect that, but I also want to rush into his arms and never let go because it’s kind of hard to breathe without him.” I fidgeted with a loose thread on my skirt. A tear rolled down my cheek and dropped onto my hand. “I feel like I’ve known him forever, like I was made to know him. What am I meant to do?”

“I think you know.”

“I’m terrified. What if he doesn’t love me back?” My heart cracked at the mere thought of it.

“Zero chance of that,” Neema said, pinching me. “I’ve read his wedding speech, and it was pretty much an ode to you, as if Shaun and I aren’t the ones getting married. I mean”—she giggled—“he did call you a little hobbit cheerleader or something, but mostly it was clear as day that he thinks you’re perfect and he thinks of you all the time.”

Noise filled my ears.

The rest of Neema’s words disappeared as something pinged against the side of my brain.

Waves of memories flowed inside my mind. Back and forth. Coming closer until I could almost taste the thought before it washed away. Back. And forth.

Hobbit. Cheerleader.

Cheerleader. Hobbit.

William.

Hobbit.

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

Gooseflesh tickled across my skin. Gandalf. William. It could be a coincidence.

But somehow, I knew it wasn’t.

It didn’t matter that the probability of William being Gandalf was frighteningly low. It didn’t matter because the probability of me finding someone who matched me in every beat was even lower. And yet, somehow, I found him.

I found him twice.

And I could find him again. As many times as he needed me to.