Dirty Letters(80)

She nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“What now?” she asked.

“Now? We put one foot in front of the other and we shop.”

This was what it was all about. One step at a time. I was thrilled when she’d told Doc not to come, that she would be okay with just me. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate all that he’d done for her, but she’d be leaving Vermont soon enough and needed to learn to lean on me—until she didn’t need to lean on anyone at all.

We came upon the watermelons.

“What was that trick, babe? Show me again how you pick the best one.”

I didn’t really want to know, but it was a good way to get her mind off her nerves.

She lifted one of them and demonstrated. “You have to hold it up to your ear and tap it with your finger. If it’s hollow, it’s perfect.”

I pulled her toward me and nestled my head in her neck, taking in a long whiff of her scent. My cheek landed on her chest, and I could feel her heart beating against me. Then I tapped gently on her breast and placed my ear on her heart.

She laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Yup. I’ve found the one for me. I’ve most definitely picked the best.”





EPILOGUE

LUCA


Two Years Later

Dear Luca,

You would think after all these years . . . after all the letters I’ve written you, this one would come easily. But somehow, I feel like a thirteen-year-old boy again, afraid to tell the girl he’s falling in love with how he feels. A lot has changed since then. I’ve been inside of you. I’ve gotten to love you in ways I never thought possible. And yet . . . it feels like yesterday that I was just that boy in London waiting for the next letter to come. I could have never imagined the journey life would take us on to get to where we are today. Your bravery in pushing through your fears not only inspires me but proves every day just how much you love me. You letting me hold your hand while you white-knuckle your way through life with me, letting the fear do its worst so that we can be together, is the ultimate proof of your love.

Before Mum died, she told me that her greatest wish for me was that I would someday find someone who loved me as much as she did. It brings me great joy knowing that she’s looking down at me right now and seeing that I have. She can rest in peace knowing I’m loved and cared for. And I hope your father and Doc are looking down right now and thinking the same thing—knowing that their girl is cherished. I’m so happy to be the man who gets to love you. Over the past couple of years, you’ve proven that you would do anything for me. And I want you to know that I would do anything for you. I’d die for you, Luca. You’re the only person I can honestly say that about. Bloody hell, could this letter BE any sappier? (I had to bring Chandler Bing from Friends back for the occasion.) Sappy or not . . . there is just no other way to convey it. Luca Vinetti, my love for you is greater than the sun, the moon, and the stars. It knows no bounds. Our story is not one that fairy tales are made of . . . it’s raw and real but the truest kind of love nevertheless. I was wondering if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife. Marry me, Luca. When you’re done reading this letter, you’re going to look up at me, and then I’m going to drop to one knee. I’m going to ask you again to marry me. If you say yes, you’ll make me the happiest guy on earth. If you say no, I’ll love you anyway, and it won’t matter whether there’s a ring on your finger to prove it. I love you, Luca. From now until eternity.

Your love,

Griffin

P.S. Please say yes.

P.P.S. Marry Mee-Mee.



I folded the letter and closed my eyes, remembering the day Griffin had proposed a year ago. We’d been roaming the country in the RV after he’d returned from his European tour. While Griffin was away in Europe, Doc died suddenly of a heart attack. I’d gone to check on him in his tiny house and found him in bed unconscious. It was the second most difficult moment of my life and really proved just how much strength I had. Because I never would have thought I could have survived finding him like that. But I just knew I had to be strong for him, that he would never want to be the source of my grief. I owed it to Doc to put his own teachings to good use when it came to losing him.

Right after Doc died, Griffin flew back from Europe to be with me, citing a family emergency. The tour was put on hold until we had some time to properly grieve. After he returned to Europe and finished the last couple of postponed shows, he came back to Vermont. That was when our new life began as we took to the open road with Hortencia in tow. It was during that trip, parked somewhere in Florida, that Griffin had handed me his proposal letter before getting down on one knee. Of course, I said yes.

Now, one year later, we were home in Los Angeles on the morning of our wedding day. Griff had agreed to get ready in the RV so that I could have some privacy. We planned to do photos before the ceremony. So he’d be seeing me soon.

With the entire second floor of our home to myself, I was taking this time to enjoy the peace and quiet—aside from Hortencia’s occasional oinking. While I’d made a few friends out here, I chose not to have any bridesmaids. There was no one who could replace Izzy today; she was here in spirit as my maid of honor. The ceremony would be small, just some of our closest friends. Griffin’s dad flew in from London with his new wife. I knew that was stressful for Griff, but I was proud of him for taking that step in inviting him.