Page 107 of Mr. Wilde

Loretta crosses her arms, looking unimpressed. “Uh-huh.”

“They could be for casual day,” I mutter, walking back toward my desk and shuffling papers that don’t need shuffling.

Cassidy walks over to me, her pink hair swaying as she tilts her head. She leans in, whispering loud enough for Frank to hear, “It’s okay, Max. I’d probably hug Frank too if he brought me pastries.” She winks.

“Shit, if I knew that’s all it took, I would’ve been delivering you sweets ages ago.”

I give Frank a glare.

“Don’t worry, Cassidy. Max’s hug was strictly professional. Mostly of the brohug variety. We aren’t coming out or anything. Not that there would be anything wrong with that,” Frank blurts.

Fucks sake. I drop my face into my hands. I didn’t think it was possible to get worse. I look toward Frank, praying my mental telepathy will scream, Stop fucking talking, dumbass!

It must work, as he waves a nervous goodbye before giving me two thumbs up and an overexaggerated smile while Loretta and Cassidy’s backs are turned.

I roll my eyes as the door closes behind him, and catch Loretta muttering something about “Jersey boys and their drama” while Cassidy giggles. The sound fills the room and makes me realize that even though I’m surrounded by these ridiculous characters, I’ve never been happier.

The air at the water’s edge is cool, smelling of damp earth and the night sky. About a hundred people are gathered along the banks, a sea of paper lanterns waiting to be ignited. It’s the kind of public display I used to loathe, but seeing the pure, unadulterated joy on Cassidy’s face makes every cheesy second worth it.

We sit on a blanket on the sand, the black water of the lake rippling in the distance. Between us sits two paper lanterns.

“Okay, no peeking,” she warns, shielding her side of the paper with her hand as she scribbles with a marker.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I lie, already knowing exactly what mine says. I write two words in a shaky hand:

Say Yes

We stand together, holding the base of our lanterns as I light each fuel cell. The paper swells, glowing a warm, amber gold. On the count of three, we let go. We watch as our wish joins the hundreds of others, a slow-moving galaxy drifting toward the stars.

I keep my arm around her, pulling her back against my chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart against mine. This shouldn’t be as emotional as it is. But it feels as if there’s a boulder in my throat the size of the asteroid in my pocket.

We were instructed that the festival has a tradition where a few tethered lanterns are brought back down by the organizers. Luck, or perhaps a very generous donation to the festival committee, ensures both of ours are pulled back to the sand.

“Go ahead,” I nudge her as the volunteer hands us our lanterns. “Share yours first.”

She bites her lip, her eyes shining in the firelight. She turns the paper lantern around. In her neat, elegant script, she’s written:

MARRY THE MAN OF MY DREAMS

My breath hitches. I don’t wait. I hand her my side of the lantern, watching her eyes widen as she reads the two words I wrote.

“Max?” she gasps.

I don’t go for a grand, cinematic speech. I’ve spent too much of my life hiding behind words and walls. I drop to one knee right there on the damp sand, the sounds of the crowd fading into a dull hum. I pull the ring from my pocket, holding it between us.

I’ve spent eleven years trapped in a world I thought I’d never escape, looking for a girl who vanished. I’ll never stop looking for Isla, but I’m hoping one day I can share this moment with her.

“While I was searching for the past, I found my future,” I say, my voice rough and thick with the honesty I only show her. “I’m a mess, Cass. But I promise to continue to work on it. I’m praying you’ll be by my side to light my way when things get dark.” I look up at her, my soul bared in the moonlight. “Baby, will you marry me?”

Cassidy doesn’t hesitate. She lunges forward, nearly knocking both of us over as she wraps her arms around my neck, her pink hair a blur of color against my white shirt. “Yes,” she sobs into my shoulder. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Cassidy

The drive to the outskirts of the city is silent, the rhythmic purr of his Audi the only thing filling the space between us. Max’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his jaw set in a line so tight it looks painful. The closer we get to his childhood home, the more I can feel his anxiety radiating off him like a physical heat.

“Cass,” he says, his voice gravelly. He pulls the SUV to the side of the long, winding driveway, the headlights cutting through the trees. “I need to warn you. My parents... they live in a world that stopped turning eleven years ago. It’s a mausoleum. There’s a ghost in every room, and sometimes the grief is so thick you can’t breathe.”

He looks at me, his blue eyes clouded with a vulnerability that breaks my heart. “There’s a ten-foot Christmas tree in the parlor. It stays up all year. It’s... it’s a lot. I’m not sure how this is going to go. I’m afraid they’ll look at me, at us, and see a betrayal. That my choosing to be happy and moving on with you might somehow be a slight against Isla because she isn’t here to do the same.” His head falls. “Hell, until you came along, I felt the same way.”