Page 90 of All That Glitters

He scribbles on the notepad, then nods again.

“Be right out.”

“Thanks, Amos,” Marigold beams.

The old man’s lip twitches a little like he might smile, but he just turns and heads toward the kitchen.

“He remembered!” she whispers excitedly.

“I told you he likes us.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Maybe you’re right. He cares in his own grumpy sort of way.”

“I’m proud of you for saying today is a special occasion,” I say to her. “I’m proud of you in general, lately. It’s been amazing to see you so relaxed and happy.”

Her cheeks tint a rosy pink.

“You should get most of the credit for that. I wouldn’t have done any of this without you.”

I shrug. “You’re still the one who had to do everything. I’m just the emotional-support boyfriend.”

She lets out a little laugh. “You’re way more than that.” Her expression softens into something sincere. “Really, Jameson, I can’t thank you enough. I’ve been drowning for so long, not realizing that I was holding my own head underwater.”

My throat tightens at her description. I hate the idea that she felt that way and that there was a period of time when she was alone, too. Of course she had her roommates, but she didn’t tell them everything she was dealing with until recently. I wish I could go back and make different choices. Maybe we wouldn’t have gone through all this pain if I had.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Marigold says with a pointed look. “And you shouldn’t be. You can’t blame yourself forever.”

Marigold never fails to see right through me. Even when I wish she couldn’t.

Amos returns and sets two ice-cold glasses in front of us. Vanilla ice cream mixed with the Coca-Cola foams over the edge of the scalloped rim of the glass.

“Thanks, Amos,” I say, and he grunts before walking away again. I think that’s all we’re going to get out of him tonight.

“I just wish I could go back in time is all,” I say once he’s gone.

“But we can’t, so there’s no point dwelling on it. I wish I would have done a lot of things differently, too.” She picks up her glass. “Now toast me, before I freak out and call Charlie to ask for my desk back.”

I chuckle and pick up my glass, holding it in the air.

“To choosing what’s right for you, no matter what anyone else thinks,” I say, meeting her gaze.

She gives me a soft smile and whispers, “Cheers to that.”

We clink glasses, then take a sip in unison. Marigold wipes away some foam from her lip with a giggle, and everything that was at war within me settles at the sight. My mind flashes through hundreds of versions of her that have sat in that same seat. One with braces, short hair, long hair, tears, laughter … and then I fixate on the Marigold that’s here now. A woman who’s fierce and brave and somehow, inexplicably, mine.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop regretting the way I hurt her months ago, but I know that I wouldn’t have this version of her without that event. Everything we’ve gone through this first year of college has molded and shaped us into the people sitting here today. And as I watch her drink our childhood favorite, I’m overwhelmed by the idea that I’ll get to watch her change for years to come.

Because now that I have her?

I’m never letting her go.

Epilogue

Marigold Belmore

I bounce on my toes outside of the arena. My face is hurting from smiling so much. We won! The Thrashers hockey team won the National Championship, and Jameson was able to play. After his injury, he wasn’t sure the coach would let him, but he did.

“I can’t believe they won!” I squeal.