His Fake Proposal Led Me To My Real Husband Chapter 39
After Patricia’s correction was posted, Mason never contacted me again.
Tyler kept his apology pinned.
Some of the people who had once joined the betting wrote me private letters. Others acted like nothing had happened.
I didn’t answer a single one.
I didn’t need every one of them to regret it.
Their regret was their own.
The following spring, my mother invited me to a picnic at Boston Common.
Eleanor came, too.
The two of them argued for ten minutes over whether raisins belonged in a salad.
Julian sat beside them slicing bread, refusing to take a side.
I asked him, “No opinion?”
“I have one.”
“What is it?”
“I think whichever side I pick, I’ll offend the other one.”
Eleanor glanced at him.
“You weren’t this timid as a child.”
My mother immediately said, “That’s called respecting your elders.”
I laughed from where I was leaning against a tree.
The wind swept across the grass, and a kite suddenly dropped not far away.
A little boy ran over to pick it up and tried a few times to get it back in the air, but couldn’t.
Julian was about to stand when I got up first.
“I’ll go.”
I untangled the string for the boy and lifted the kite high.
“Run forward. Don’t look back.”
He nodded and took off, the string tight in his hand.
The kite wobbled twice, then rose into the air again.
The boy turned and shouted to me, “It’s flying!”
“Watch where you’re going,” I called back, waving him on.
“Be careful.”
He turned his head forward again and ran farther and farther away.
I stood there, watching the brightly colored kite.
Julian came to stand beside me.
“I thought you said you didn’t like kites.”
“I never said that.”
“Then why did you never fly one before?”
I thought about it.
“Maybe because it always felt like someone else was holding the string.”
He didn’t say anything. He just handed me a cup of hot cocoa.
I took a sip.
Still not too sweet.
Across the lawn, my mother was calling us back to eat.
I turned and took two steps, then looked back up at the sky.
The kite had already climbed very high.
But this time, I didn’t take it as some kind of sign.
It was only a kite.
When the wind dies, it falls. When the wind returns, it can fly again.
And my life doesn’t need to wait for the wind, and it doesn’t need to wait for anyone to let go.
I get to decide where I go.
The EndÂ