Page 77 of Merry Little Hate Notes

“Brandon,” I whispered, feeling so overcome by him. He still took my breath away after all this time.

He motioned with his finger for me to come closer.

I shed my coat and boots and left them by the door, careful not tomess up the manicure. I had a feeling I wanted my fingers to look pretty tonight. When I got closer, I realized the notes were all from me. There were hateful notes from years ago when I’d held him in contempt of court, down to the love note I’d left on his door yesterday that said,I love you more than words can wield the matter, dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty.I was still in my Shakespeare era.

“You kept all my notes,” I cried. I could hardly believe it.

“Every single one. I thought they might be all I would ever have of you. How lucky I am that’s not the case.”

I had no words, just love. So much love swelled within me, making my heart beat erratically and the butterflies in my stomach swirl frantically.

“I have one more note for you.” Brandon reached into his pocket and pulled out a bright-blue sticky note. He jumped easily over the notes on the floor and landed in front of me.

Dang. That was sexy.

He got down on one knee and handed me the note.

I carefully took the note and silently read it to myself. The ability to speak had escaped me.Please be my wife, Holly-Pops.I nodded vigorously through the tears streaming down my face.

“Is that a yes?” Brandon was eager for confirmation.

“Yes,” I said as emphatically as possible. “Yes, I’ll be your wife.”

Brandon opened his hand to reveal the prettiest primrose diamond ring in his palm.

“I love it. But I love you more.”

Brandon placed the ring on my finger before tugging me toward him. I was so excited, I pulled him down with me, and we landed among the notes. It was perfect. The notes had been our beginning, and proof that sometimes all love needs is a little hate.

THE END