Chapter 46: Ophelia

Chapter 46: Ophelia

"Where to now?" Xavier asks.

It’s been a long afternoon working out the details of Xavier’s new contract. In the movies, they just cut to the next scene. In reality, it takes hours for the agent to get there, read it over, deliberate this point and then that one.

I tried to look attentive and not at all bored.

I don’t think I was successful.

Lucky for me, and probably for Xavier too, Bjorn Janssen is definitely a Team Xavier person. I wasn’t sure he’d remember me or respond to my emails, which is why I reached out to Hannah.

It was a Hail Mary pass, or whatever the soccer equivalent is. I should probably learn that. While waiting to see if Bjorn would respond, I searched and found Hannah LaRosa on ClikClak. She was the server at The Tower on our wedding night. I was desperate, and if Bjorn didn’t come through, she was at least one more in I had with the team.

I don’t think she was thrilled to have to reach out to Callaghan Entay, her former hookup, on my behalf, but she did it anyway. I’m so glad she did, because he’s super helpful, getting his agent to agree to take on Xavier.

Team Xavier is pretty impressive if I do say so myself.

We should have shirts made.

I pull the car over into a Dunkin’ parking lot. "Before we go any further, we need to talk. And I need you to let me go first, otherwise, I’m going to lose my nerve."

Xavier, sitting in my passenger’s seat, unbuckles his seat belt and turns to face me. With a rolling wave of his arm, he says, "The floor is yours, m’lady."

"I understand that I’m impulsive. I always have been. That’s not an excuse for what happened. I think my brain will always have a ’ready, fire, aim’ tendency, but I need to make every effort to make sure that it doesn’t hurt the people around me. The people I care about. The people I love. You."

My throat starts to get thick, making it hard to say the words. I push forward before I lose my nerve. "I didn’t really know what love was until I met you. I know that sounds like some corny love song, but I don’t have to tell you I’m not great at those either. But you—you were the first person to see me. The real Ophelia. And you liked me for me. I didn’t have to try and be something I wasn’t when I was around you. I didn’t disappoint you. And you unlocked something in me that I thought I’d lost. My ability to write. From the time I was a small child, it’s been my deepest desire. I tried a few years ago and … it didn’t go well. So I threw myself into numbers, something I was good at. But it didn’t fulfill me."

I take a breath and look at Xavier to make sure he’s still paying attention. "So, yes, I was writing because of you. Inspired by you. That much is true. But I need you to take a look at this."

I hand him my phone, all queued up and ready to go.

"Ophelia, it’s fine. I get it." Xavier holds up his hand. "I don’t need to—"

"Just take it and read it. Please. For me."

Then I wait as his eyes scan my phone. His finger flicks the screen, scrolling. His eyes go wide. His mouth opens and closes. His head tilts to the side and his eyes squint a bit. Finally, after what feels like forever, Xavier looks at me. "What is this?"

"It’s what I was writing. The story I published on Wattpad. The one the ESPN article claimed was about you."

Xavier looks at my phone again, scrolling up and down. "Unless I’m a vampire pirate with a thirteen-inch nob, then no. This does not resemble me in the least."

I start to laugh.

"Christ, Ophelia, the book is set at sea. There are literal vampires."

"I know. I wrote it."

He tilts his head as he continues reading. "Bloody hell, this is filthy. And is it even physically possible?"

I shrug. "Readers don’t seem to care as long as it fulfills their fantasy."

He puts my phone down on the console. "This isn’t about me at all."

I shrug. "I may have used some inspiration for the hero’s backside. Yours is so fine, it should be commemorated in books. I’d take a photo and put it on the cover if I could. But otherwise, unless you’re secretly undead and in search of your family’s long-lost treasure, no."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

I shrug again. "The other stuff, the Tony stuff, was big. And the social media stuff was true. I mean, I’ve gained over five hundred thousand followers just by being a hot mess. Hell, Phaedra was even following me."

That was a shock. And total coincidence that I saw her name on a post.

"Plus, you met my family."

"Yes, and at some point, we’re going to have to unpack that bag," Xavier says.

Sighing I say, "I know. But in the meantime, I had to make this right for you."

"But I don’t understand why."

"Why wouldn’t I? Soccer is your dream. Your passion. You weren’t ready to give that up yet, so I couldn’t let some wanker take it from you."

He looks at me. "You really want nothing else from me, do you?" His voice is incredulous, like he can’t believe what he’s saying.

I don’t want to lie to him. I don’t want to keep anything from him ever again. "That’s not totally true. There is something I want from you."

I see his chest rise and fall as he closes his eyes for a moment.

Quickly, I say, "I want you to marry me. For real. I want to be your wife, and all that goes with it. Soccer games, making smoothies, being a WAG. You tell me and I’ll do it, as long as you’ll marry me for real this time."

"Dammit, Ophelia."

Shit. No. He’s going to jump out of this car and run far away. "I’m sorry. I know it’s too much. But that’s me. Always too much. We can get a divorce. Owen will figure out a way—"

My words are cut short when Xavier’s mouth crashes on mine. He’s holding my face in his hands, keeping me close to him. "No, dammit, Ophelia," he says, breathless. "I wanted to be the one to propose this time. Haven’t you ever seen a romance movie? The man does it."

I laugh and he kisses me again, this time soft and sweet. A sigh escapes me. "So no divorce?"

"No divorce, but yes a proper wedding and proper marriage. But first, we need to celebrate properly, which may or may not include my fantasy of seeing you in nothing but my jersey with my name across your back. Now, where are we going to make all this happen?"

"Home."