When we made it downstairs, he pushed me against a wall and kissed me so deeply that I silently promised to never go that long without kissing him again.

“My place or yours?” he asked.

“Yours.”

“Good choice.” He wrapped an arm around my waist, leading me down the street and toward his car. He held me tighter when the first photog stepped in front of us.

He kissed my forehead as two more started flashing their invasive cameras.

“No umbrellas in this rain?” “Are you two an item now?” “Any comment on Hayden’s letter, Penelope?”

Hayden opened the passenger door and helped me inside without saying a word to them.

He moved to the driver’s side and sped onto the street.

Holding my hand behind the gear shift, he looked over as we approached a red light. “What exactly did you have to talk to me about next week?”

“A communication schedule.”

“What?” He scoffed. “You honestly think I would follow something like that just to talk to you?”

“It was for co-parenting,” I said, pausing. “I’m pregnant.”

He put the car in park and looked over at me.

“Before you ask, there’s no need for a paternity test.”

“I wasn’t planning to ask that at all.” He glanced at my stomach. “How far along are you?”

“Thirteen weeks,” I said. “Are you scared?”

“Terrified.” He leaned over and kissed me, ignoring the honking cars behind us once the light turned green.

“Tell me something, then,” he said. “A communication schedule for a friendship would be one thing, but why did you think something like that would work once I found out that you were carrying my child?”

“I was willing to include a few no-strings attached sex provisions if you kept up your end of the deal.”

His lips curved into a smile. “A few would never be enough.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m looking forward to a true new beginning with you, Penelope, but I want to make sure that I’m never in the way of your dreams.”

“I understand that.”

“Good,” he said. “I also want to make sure that you remain open with me and always tell me what you want, so I can give it to you.”

“In the bedroom?”

“That’s a given, but no.” He shook his head. “I mean in everything. Tell me.”

“What about letting me drive your car?”

“Don’t fucking push it.” He laughed, kissing me again. “I’ll have to take you to a parking lot this week and test that out first. What do you really want?”

Fifty

A few months later

Penelope

I ran my fingers across a spool of red ribbon, letting out a breath as I read the words that were embedded in the trim.

[The Perfect Feather: Ice Skating Pavilion ]

The grand opening of my rink wasn’t scheduled until months from now, but I’d made it my personal mission to oversee all of the custom details for the ribbon-cutting ceremony.

My mother’s collection of medals and awards would soon have a new home on the far-left wall, right next to mine.

In between ours, I’d leave spaces for other women to show off their accomplishments. I already knew that the skaters who’d signed on to work with me in the spring had high chances of developing long-term careers on the ice.

I also knew that I could still possibly train someone who could help me get to “twenty-eight,” via the Olympics coaching rule someday, but it was far better to have twenty-eight students and counting instead.

Smiling, I walked over to a pair of skates on the bench, resisting the urge to put them on.

“I could’ve sworn we agreed that you wouldn’t come here until after our son was born.” Hayden’s deep voice made me turn around.

“Since you know me, you should’ve known that was a lie.”

“I did.” He smiled, kissing my forehead. “I also knew to fly home early if I wanted to know what you’re truly doing. This doesn’t look like hanging out with Tatiana.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to sit through hours of anime with a super-fan.” I shook my head. “How’d your meeting with Sarah and Lawrence go?”

“Good.” He wrapped his arms around my waist. “They’re happy to move to the next level. Speaking of which, on a scale of one to ten, how happy are you with me?”

“Eight.”

“Only eight?” He raised his eyebrow.

“It would be a ten if you could get the tabloids to stop printing their daily, ‘How long will Penelope Carter last with Hayden Hunter?’ game. They run multiple versions of that story a week.”

“I told you that you’re not supposed to read that stuff.”

“I’m still working on it.”

“Hmmm.” He kissed me, pulling a small red box from his pocket. “Tell you what. The next time they play, you should join them and bet on forever.”

He stepped back and got down on one knee.

I gasped as he grabbed my hand and looked up at me.

“I wanted to propose to you months ago,” he said, “but I knew that you would want the traditional approach, i.e., asking your parents, which is unfortunately impossible.”

“Please tell me that you didn’t ask my brother instead.”

“I did ask your brother.” He smiled. “He said, Hell no. But I did ask him.”

I laughed.

“He came around after a few days, though. Even if he hadn’t, I would’ve done this anyway.” He squeezed my hand.

“Penelope Carter, I’ve been in love with you since breakup number fifteen,” he said. “I wish I’d told you then, and that we’d never had to go through a Cold War at all.”

Tears pricked my eyes.

“Nonetheless, I’ll never put you through another one, and I want to spend the rest of my life as more than your boyfriend.” He looked deep into my eyes. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Yes.”

He slid a massive diamond ring onto my finger and kissed my hand before standing up. Pulling me into his arms, he kissed me until I was nearly breathless.

“I’m glad that you’re my first and last relationship,” he whispered against my lips.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I know that I’ll never have to give you a breakup title.”

 

* * *

 

THE END

Break Up #17

The One That Owes Me An Apology

EPILOGUE

Hayden

Don’t forget that you owe me an apology.

I know that you made assumptions about me that didn’t come true when we first met in the prologue. I could see you.

You probably thought I’d cheated on my best friend somehow or done something completely unforgivable.

Either way, since I’ve spent most of this novel doling out apologies like candy, I think it’s only fair that you extend one to me.

I’ll even email you one of Penelope’s templates.

I’m waiting.

—

The End

(Again)