Pink Slip {h.s.}

Bonus Epilogue!*: My Dream Girl

Surprise Puddins

Today, on the anniversary of the banquet Harry handed me a white envelope.

We decided that our "official anniversary" would be the day I tried to dump him, but somehow became his girlfriend. Mostly because we weren't really sure how to tell people that the night of banquet was the first time we had sex and we were both done for after that.

Telling people that he asked me to be his girlfriend over a candlelight dinner I made, which we never actually touched, was a lot more digestible than the night he called me out on having sex dreams about him and then asked me if he could "have me."

We're as romantic as a Nicholas Sparks novel.

So to the world our anniversary was in a few weeks, but to us it was today.

I look down at the envelope that clearly has some sort of paper in it.

"What's this?" I ask.

"A believe most people call it a gift, but I have heard a few people say the word present," he smiles but pulls the inside of his cheek between his teeth. We've been together for a year, I'm not surprised that we have picked up some of each other's habits, but this was a nervous habit. Why was he freaking out?

"I know it's kind of cheesy," he continued. "The whole 'paper anniversary' thing. But I've wanted to do this for a long time, and I guess circumstances just worked out. So if you could open it so I could stop having a meltdown that would be great."

I shake my head as I carefully open the envelope that he had sealed with a red heart sticker. "You're such a sap. It doesn't matter what it is I-."

The rest of that sentence was most likely going to be "I love you no matter what." Probably followed up by a "I'm sure I'll love it regardless because it's perfect and you're perfect and have I mentioned I love you?" Yeah we are annoying, but I can't help myself when it comes to him.

I didn't finish that sentence though, because as my eyes roamed over the piece of paper, my face flashed with a hundred emotions, the main one being confusion.

"Are these tickets to Waitress? Like the musical?"

Harry came around me to look over my shoulder to read the tickets as if he had suddenly forgotten what he bought me.

"Yeah, do you not like them? I just figured you know baking and showtunes are your two favorite things--besides me of course. And I thought it would be a nice treat. If you don't like them we can get different ones. Shit, I'm sorry I probably should've double checked with Ben or something." Harry was rambling and panicking, which I probably should've soothed sooner, but I liked the way his ears tinted pink when he got a little nervous. It's one of those little things that I notice that makes my heart beat louder.

"Harry, calm down." I put a hand on his chest. "I love them. I'm just confused because I could've sworn Waitress closed on Broadway like a year ago."

His nervousness was instantly replaced with smugness. "Read the tickets again Puddin'."

I look down and scan them again. That's when I notice that the theatre listed on the tickets isn't on Broadway. In fact, it's not even in New York at all.

These are tickets for the West End. In London. Like, London, England. Like England in Europe.

"What do you say Dream Girl?" Harry's arms wrapped around my torso and pulled me to him as his head leaned on my shoulder. "Wanna go to Europe for our anniversary?"

I turn around so I can wrap my arms around his neck, the envelope and tickets still in my hands. "Well that depends. Are we just going to England for theater or are there any other stops you might want to make?"