Mrs. Matched | Complete

Chapter Thirty-Seven

He opened the door before I arrived and just stood in the doorway staring at me, sweater pushed up above his elbows to avoid getting water on the sleeves. His eyes were puffy and red and he was wearing jeans that looked older than I was.

My heart pounded in my throat and my arms went numb as I stopped a few feet in front of him, ready to puke right there on the gravel pathway.

He stared at me and I stared right back until I actually threatened to bring up the remains of Mel's sandwich.

One of us was going to have to break first. It should be me.

"My lawyer is an idiot," I blurted out. Could you think of a worse way to start this conversation, Aubrey? How about 'I really definitely hate you.' Ugh.

He crossed his arms across his chest and stepped away from the door. Not exactly welcoming, but being allowed inside was a start.

"You should sit down," he said after several minutes. "I don't want your foot to get reinjured."

"Thank you." There was something so uncomfortable about civility without closeness, but I accepted the offer and sat across from where he stood near the kitchen table.

"What I meant was..." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I can't keep looking at his face and expect to do anything but cry. I need to get the whole thing out. I took another breath and blurted everything out at once.

"When we first got married I was so mad at my parents that I went to see a lawyer -- remember, the one that sucks? -- and asked him how I could get out of it and somehow that incompetent mung bean decided to file paperwork without my consent which wouldn't have been so bad except I didn't exactly want to be out of the marriage by then because I maybe kinda realized you were perfect for me and I'm sorta starting to like you and I'm making this all sound so awful but the short answer is please, please know I never meant for you to get those papers that day."

"So, your lawyer is an idiot?" He pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, arms once again folded across his chest.

"Yes, and so am I. I should never have gone to him and I should have made sure he didn't do anything stupid like sending you divorce papers especially after..." I couldn't say it out loud.

I looked up to see Chris uncross his arms and fiddle with a small rip on his jeans. I have to do this.

"After we came up here and we... well I felt like we were finally starting to get to a place where maybe we could be married to each other and I was so so preoccupied with everything I forgot to make sure he didn't send any of those papers and I cannot believe you got them and I just. . . I'm so sorry."

There was a long pause as Chris picked at his jeans and I stared at his forehead, not wanting to meet his eyes but needing to know what he was thinking.

Finally, he looked up at me and asked, "When?"

"When, what? I said a lot of stuff. I babble when I'm nervous and I didn't have time to plan this, really and--"

"When did you see the lawyer?"

"Maybe like a week in? It was really early. Before you met my parents, I think."

"No, when was the last time you saw the lawyer?"

"That was the last time I saw the lawyer. I tried to call him for three hours this morning to get him to undo it but--"

"Your lawyer sucks."

"Yes."

"Okay. So, why did you drive all the way up here? How did you find me here?"

"Lucky guess and the tracking history on my cell phone." I answered the second question first. "And I came all the way up here because I had to tell you that I think I might love you and I guess ask you if you might consider being married to me still. Or, well, again."

"Are you asking me to marry you? After all this?"

"Umm. Yes?" I shouldn't have asked it like a question. I should state what I want like the confident woman I am. But I was scared, and in all my life there had never been a person I wanted by my side more than I wanted him as my husband. "Chris I was wondering if maybe you would like to marry me. Still. Or, again."

The silence sitting between us roared and the tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to concentrate on my breathing but just ended up feeling warm and a little light headed. Why on earth had I come here to his place and asked him to marry me when he barely had time to process what happened? What was I thinking to suggest that--

"Aubrey?" Chris was mere inches away from my face, hand resting on my cheek. "Aubrey, it is traditional to kiss your fiance after you ask him to marry you."

"Only if he says yes," I tried to argue. But I didn't get the whole word out before his hands gently guided me toward him and his lips were on mine in a gentle kiss.

The tears streaming down my face had mixed with his by the time I pulled away and rested my forehead on his. "Is that a yes, then?"

His chuckle shook through his arms and into my shoulders. "Yes, Aubrey. Of course it's a yes."

"I didn't have time to get a ring," I said, blabbing the first thing that came to my mind, as usual.

He pulled his left arm down and rested his hand in my lap. "That's okay. I didn't take it off."

"You always did say you were the one and done type."

"I meant it," he sighed, resting his head on my shoulder.