Will you marry us?
“Graham,” I whispered, shaking as I slowly turned around to face him. When I did, he was down on one knee, holding a ring in his hand.
“I love you, Lucy,” he said, not calling me Lucille for the first time ever. “I love the way you give, the way you care, the way you laugh, the way you smile. I love your heart and how it beats for the world. Before you, I was lost, and because of you, I found my way home. You’re the reason I believe in tomorrow. You’re the reason I believe in love, and I plan to never let you go. Marry me. Marry Talon. Marry us.”
Tears formed in my eyes as I stood in front of them. I lowered myself down so I was kneeling beside him. I wrapped my body around his, and he held me close as I whispered yes repeatedly, the word traveling from my lips and straight into his soul.
He slid the ring onto my finger, and as he held me close, my heart pounded more and more, knowing that my greatest hope had finally come true.
I was finally planting my roots in a home so warm.
“So this is our happily ever after?” I asked softly against his lips.
“No, my love, this is merely our chapter one.”
When he kissed me, I swore, in the darkness of the night, I felt the warmth of the sun.
Six Years Later
“And he was your best friend, Daddy?” Talon asked as she helped me dig around in the garden. The summer sun touched our faces as we picked green peppers and tomatoes for dinner that night.
“My very best friend,” I told her, knee deep in dirt. The sunflowers we planted a few months ago were as tall as Talon. Whenever the wind blew past us, the flowers Lucy picked out lit up our senses.
“Can you tell me his story again?” she asked, placing her shovel into the ground. She then picked up a green pepper and bit into it as if it were an apple—just like her mama. If I were inside and couldn’t find the two, they were normally in the backyard eating cucumbers, peppers, and rhubarb.
“The dirt is good for the soul,” Lucy always joked.
“Again?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “Didn’t I just tell the story last night before bed?”
“Maktub,” she replied with a sly grin. “It means all is written, which means you were supposed to tell the story again.”
I laughed. “Is that so?” I asked, walking over to her and scooping her into my arms.
She giggled. “Yes!”
“Well, okay, since all is written after all,” I joked. I walked her over to Professor Oliver’s tree where three chairs were lined up. Two full-sized chairs and one child’s plastic chair. I placed Talon in her chair, and I took mine beside her. “So, it all began when I was in college and failed my first paper.”
I told her the story of how Professor Oliver came into my life and how he planted a seed into my heart that grew into love. He was my best friend, my father, my family. Talon always loved the story, too. The way she smiled as she listened closely always filled me up with love. She listened like Lucy—wholeheartedly with a sparkle in her eyes.
When I finished the story, Talon stood up as she did every time, walked over to the tree, and hugged it tight. “I love you, Grandpa Ollie,” she whispered, giving the bark a kiss.
“Again?” Lucy asked, speaking of Professor Oliver’s story, as she walked outside. She waddled over to Talon and me, with her full-grown pregnant stomach, and when she lowered herself to her chair, she sighed heavily as if she’d just run a full 5k.
“Again.” I smiled before I bent over to her and kissed her lips, and then her stomach.
“How was your nap, Mama?” Talon asked, filled to the brim with energy. It was amazing to watch her run around and grow excited. Years ago she fit in the palm of my hand. Years ago it wasn’t certain that she’d survive, and today, she was the definition of life.
“Nap was good,” Lucy replied, yawning, still tired.
Any day now, we’d be losing even more sleep each night.
I’d never been more excited and ready in my life.
“You need anything?” I asked. “Water? Juice? Five pizzas?”
She grinned and closed her eyes. “Just the sun for a little bit.”
The three of us sat outside for hours, soaking in the sunlight. It felt amazing, being surrounded by my family.
Family.
I somehow ended up with a family. Never in my life had I thought my life would end up like this—happy. The two girls who sat beside me were my world, and the little boy who would be here soon was already controlling my heartbeats.
When it was time to go prepare dinner, I helped Lucy out of her chair, and the minute she stood, we both paused for a moment.
“Mama, why did you pee your pants?” Talon asked, looking over at Lucy.
I cocked an eyebrow, realizing what had just happened. “Hospital?” I asked.
“Hospital,” she replied.
Everything was different than when Talon was born. My son was welcomed into the world at eight pounds and three ounces. He came into the world screaming, allowing us all to be aware of his strong lungs.
I often looked back on the happiest seconds of my life and wondered how a man like me became so blessed. There was the moment Talon was released from the NICU. The first time Professor Oliver called me son. The time Lucy first told me she loved me. The second when the adoption papers went through for Talon to officially become Lucy’s and my daughter. My wedding day. And now, as I held my handsome son for the first time in my arms.
Oliver James Russell.
Ollie for short.
We headed home one day after Ollie was born, and before Talon was off to bed that night, she walked over to her brother, who was sleeping in Lucy’s arms, and kissed his forehead. “I love you, baby Ollie,” she whispered, and my heart expanded more. It grew each day, being surrounded by my loves.
I carried Talon to her bed, knowing in the middle of the night she’d find herself sleeping between her mother and me. I welcomed her each night with a hug and a kiss, because I knew there would come a day when she wouldn’t be lying beside Lucy and me. I knew there would come a day when she was too old, and too cool to be near her parents. So whenever she wandered into our room, I held her tight and thanked the universe for having my daughter to show me what true love looked like.
After Talon was tucked in, I headed back to the nursery where Lucy was falling asleep in the gliding chair with Ollie still resting. I took him from her arms and laid him in his crib, gently kissing his forehead.
“Bedtime,” I whispered to my wife, gently kissing her cheek and helping her stand.
“Bedtime,” she muttered back, yawning as I helped her to our room. After I pulled back the covers on the bed and laid her down, I crawled into bed beside her and held her close to me.
Her lips brushed against my neck as she moved in closer. “Happy?” she yawned.
I kissed her forehead. “Happy,” I replied.
“I love you, my Graham Cracker,” she said softly seconds before she fell asleep.
“I love you, my Lucille,” I said, kissing her forehead.
As we lay there that night, I thought about our story. How she found me when I was lost, how she saved me when I needed her the most. How she forced me to stop pushing people away and proved to me that real love wasn’t something from fairytale books. She taught me that real love took time. Real love took work. Real love took communication. Real love only grew if those involved took the time to nurture it, to water it, to give it light.
Lucille Hope Russell was my love story, and I promised myself I’d spend the rest of my life being hers.
After all, maktub—it was already written.
We were destined to live happily ever after as our hearts floated near the stars and our feet remained on solid ground.
The End
Brittainy C. Cherry is an Amazon #1 Bestselling Author who has always been in love with words. She graduated from Carroll University with a Bachelor’s degree in Theatre Arts and a minor in Creative Writing. Br
ittainy lives in Brookfield, Wisconsin with her family. When she’s not running a million errands and crafting stories, she’s probably playing with her adorable pets or traveling to new places.
The Elements Series (All Standalones)
The Air He Breathes
The Fire Between High & Lo
The Silent Waters
Other Books by Brittainy C. Cherry
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Writing this novel was so hard for me, and so many people came through to help me get to those final words, ‘The End’. Yet there was one lady who truly listened to me fall apart and then helped piece me back together with this book. She spent hours on the phone with me talking me through it, and when I deleted 70,000 words, she held my hand and told me I could start over and make it even better. Staci Brillhart—you were my rock with this book. You kept me grounded when I wanted to float away, and you were nothing more than a concrete angel for me. I have no clue how I’ve been lucky enough to meet someone like you who is patient, and caring, and always there for me. But I thank you from the bottom of my heart for holding my hand and listening to my tears. I’m always here for you if you need me, day or night, my friend. You are the reason I believe in the good of this world.
To Kandi Steiner and Danielle Allen—two women who make my heart soar. You two are the definitions of strength, charm, and loyalty. Thank you for reading parts of this book, and listening to my panics, and still loving me the same. You both are two of the best things to come from this book world. I adore you both more than words could ever say, my loves!
To my tribe of women who lift each other up, and cheer for each other’s success: How lucky am I to know such beauty?
To Samantha Crockett: You’re my best friend. Thank you for the encouraging memes to get me through this book. Thank you for the trips to Chicago to get my mind off the book. And thank you for being my very best friend. I’m blessed to know you, and love you wildly. Even if you like peas.
To Talon, Maria, Allison, Tera, Alison, Christy, Tammy, and Beverly: My favorite group of betas in the world. Thank you for challenging me and not letting my words settle with just being ‘decent’. You all make my stories stronger, and because of your voices, I’m learning to find my own. Thank you isn’t enough, but since you aren’t beta reading this part you can’t tell me how to make it better haha!
A big, big thank you to my copy editors, Ellie at Love N Books, and Caitlin at Editing by C. Marie. Thanks for giving your all to my messy words and polishing them until they shine. Oh, and thanks for dealing with me going, “WAIT! LET ME ADD THIS!” God. I’m annoying.
Virginia, Emily, and Alison—the best proofreaders in the world. Those small details, and those annoying commas that I overdose on: thanks for helping fix those weird mistakes. I’d say I’ll do better next time, but I fear that’s a lie.
To Staci Brillhart AGAIN who designed the amazing cover, and she also discovered the amazing photograph. (SERIOUSLY SHE’S A UNICORN!) Thank you! Thank you to Arron Dunworth, the amazing photographer, and Stuart Reardon—the stunning out-of-this-world cover model.
To my family and friends who somehow still like me even though I mostly live in a writing cave for a good amount of my life. Thank you for understanding that sometimes I stop mid-conversation and go to my notepad to write down random words. Thank you for understanding that sometimes I play the same songs on repeat when writing certain scenes. And thank you for loving me, even on the days (okay, weeks) when I don’t make my bed or put on makeup. Living with a writing zombie must be awkward, but still, you all love me. Weirdos.
And finally: To you. And you. And you. Thank you for reading this book. Thank you for giving me a chance. Without you all, the readers and bloggers, I would just be a girl with a dream and a novel that’s unread. You changed my life. Thank you for pushing me to be better with each novel. Thank you for showing up when I need you the most. Thank you for the messages that sometimes take me weeks to reply to (but I promise I read them all.) Thank you for loving the written word, and taking the time to open my books. I’m going to love you all forever and always. You’re my Lucilles of the world. You’re my heart. You’re my favorite human beings of all human beings.
Maktub.
Brittainy C. Cherry, The Gravity of Us
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