The video chat shrilled a warning at Kat that Wes wanted to chat. Chat about her plans to return to Chicago—to him.
Energy pulsed through her like it normally did before she entered a courtroom at the start of a trial. She set her cup of chamomile tea to the side, brushed on her best faux-smile, and clicked answer.
The screen erupted with the love of her life, a handsome man with bright-blue eyes that Kat imagined resembled the color of the sky in heaven. Her heart fluttered. She’d missed him so much. They were apart often, sometimes for months at a time, but for some reason, the last few weeks had been torturous.
“Hi, my love. What time should I plan to pick you up tonight?” Wes’s voice came through vibrant and enthusiastic, like his attitude toward life. The man could make Bozo the Clown look depressed.
“I’m good.” Kat struggled with her real answer that would pop his happy balloon. Their relationship had grown to a new level during their vacation to a private island in the South Pacific almost two months ago. He’d spoken of taking time off to have the freedom to travel the world with her, and she’d been caught up in his enthusiasm. But now that she faced the reality of time off from her practice, she realized she couldn’t be who he wanted—a free spirit who’d make a good wife.
“What is it, gorgeous?” He always knew when something troubled her. Since their first date, he’d been able to read her like no one ever could. She’d always prided herself on her ability to remain blank—it served her well when facing jurors when she thought her client could be guilty. Of course, he’d been an attorney, too. Her silent partner while he ran his business until his software solutions company took over his life.
“It’s just that…” Kat dared a glance at the screen that framed his jet-black hair, strong jawline, and expectant gaze. She hated to hurt his feelings, but she’d seen how secrets tore lives apart every day in the courtroom. They’d made a vow to always be honest and up front, and it had worked for them for several years.
His ear-to-ear smile wavered but recovered. “You can tell me anything.”
Turmoil spun, churning her desire to be with him with her fear of facing the truth, that she didn’t believe in marriage. How could she after witnessing her own parents’ misery? Like dropping an unexpected fact onto a jury, she said, “About tonight? I’m not going to make it.”
He shrugged. “No worries. I can get you tomorrow. I’ve got some news I hope you’ll be excited about.”
Kat steadied herself, trying to remain focused despite the exhaustion threatening to put her in bed again. She rubbed her stomach, trying to settle the queasiness she’d struggled with the last few days. She needed to find the strength to tell him she had second thoughts about getting married, but the last week or two she’d been fatigued and wanting to sleep all the time. A fact that had driven her to the internet to check her symptoms, only to discover the worst new possibility. Probable menopause.
When had she gotten so old?
She inhaled a deep breath and focused on breaking the heart of the man she loved. “I bought my parents’ house. I’ve got some details to figure out before I can fly back.” There, she’d said it, and based on his deflating posture, she knew he’d listened.
“You bought your parents’ place? The one you said was lonely except the occasional visit when they’d fly into town for holidays? The house you couldn’t wait to escape the second you graduated high school?”
“Yes,” she said, but the weight of hurting him drove her to say more. She’d learned a long time ago never to share more information than necessary when facing an opponent, but somehow Wes always drew out all her thoughts. “But it’s a good investment. Home prices on the island are skyrocketing.”
He shrugged. “Sounds like a solid idea.”
Kat sat back in her father’s old desk chair and eyed the screen. “You’re not upset that I didn’t tell you about this before I did it?”
“No. Why would I be? We’re not married.”
Ouch. A sting shot through her like an injection of acid. “Right, not married,” she mumbled. Happy feet danced in her belly at the thought of being Mrs. Weston Knox. Yet, the promise of happily ever after was a lie.
“Unless you’ve changed your mind and you’ll make an honest man out of me?” He winked, his dark lashes accentuating his playfulness that always stirred her up inside, but this time it only churned the nausea.
She lifted the cup to her mouth, but the smell warned her not to sip the beverage, so she put it back on the coaster and longed to return to bed. “I just thought you’d be upset because you’ve been pressuring me for the last two years to travel the world with you, to be free of all entanglements, and a house—”
“A house is a good investment, especially in Florida. Besides, we don’t have to live there. You can have a management company handle all the business, repairs, and rentals.” Wes ran a hand through his thick hair, flipping it back to the one side in that underwear-model way of his. How could he look so young while her body decayed from age? Menopause was a cruel, ruthless enemy.
Kat swallowed her anxiety. Why was it that she could argue in front of Supreme Court judges, take on the most acclaimed attorneys, but when it came to looking into Wes’s eyes, she would tremble and her knees would go weak? Never had a man ever stolen her words until he entered her life. “I thought maybe we could use this as a vacation home more than a rental property. You know, since I’ve reconnected with Jewels, Trace, and Wind.”
Wes scrubbed his jaw as if to consider her words. “Ah, the infamous Friendsters. Of course, I should’ve realized you’d want a place there. No worries, I get it. We’ll plan to stay there for a few weeks a year. It’s about time I met them, you know.”
Kat relaxed at the sight of his sexy eyebrow raise and offered a playful smile. “You’ll like it here. It’ll remind you of our recent vacation.”
His eyes widened, and his lips curled into a mischievous grin. “I like that place already.”
She giggled like a five-year-old instead of the fifty she was. “It’s inspired me to remember our conversation at sunset our final night on the beach.” The one where she’d told him to ask her to marry him again. Promising she’d say yes this time.
“Now I really can’t wait for you to return. And that will be…?” he asked.
Her stomach rolled over and died. “I don’t know. I want to stay a little longer. I’ve been working remotely, and I don’t have any court dates for months at this point.” Coward. She needed to tell him she didn’t think she could take that much time away, to give up everything she’d worked so hard to achieve for a man. Not even for him. She’d never be her mother.
“Months?” He shook his head. “Nope, no way. Pull up your calendar.”
“What?”
“Do it right now,” he insisted.
She picked up her phone, and after she entered her authentication codes, she brought up her personal calendar. “Okay.”
“Look back to when we took our trip and count the days,” he ordered more than asked.
She did as instructed, counting through the dates marked pink for nail appointments, blue for hair appointments, red for period…wait. Her nails tap, tap, tapped over fifty days with no more red dots. Her throat went mid-life dry. “Fifty,” she mumbled through a haze.
“Now, look at tomorrow’s date.”
“Yeah.” Her mind still hung on the fact it had been fifty days since their trip and over fifty days since her last period. Obviously, the big beacon of old age flashed ahead.
Menopause. Menopause. Menopause.
“And put in Wes arrives with flowers and open arms at the front steps of your new house at two in the afternoon.”
“Okay.” Kat still stared at the date. Her period had never been late. She’d trained it the way she’d trained her clients to obey her instructions, the way she’d trained her friends to listen to her guidance, the way she’d trained Wes to be a good boyfriend. She shook her head. It was ridiculous. It was all the stress of buying the house, of reuniting with her Friendsters. She didn’t know what to do, how to think, to breathe. All she knew was she needed time to figure this out on her own. What the next stage of their relationship would be. “You can’t make it tomorrow. You run a company.”
“Remember, freedom? I’m the owner and we have no kids and no pets, so no problem. We can live our life the way we’ve always wanted. Free and fun. And that’s part of what I want to talk to you about. I’m ready to take our next big step and cut some more ties so we can run away together. Just the two of us. On another private island beach somewhere exotic and wonderful.”
“Okay,” Kat mumbled, still staring at the blasted number on the calendar. It had to be wrong.
“You alright?” Wes asked, leaning into the camera as if he’d see something more clearly.
“Um, sorry. I’m distracted.” Old age. What a slap in the face. When did she get this old? “The Friendsters just showed up. I have to run.”
So much for not lying.
“No sweat. I’ll see you tomorrow and the day after that and every day after that. It’ll be just the two of us living on love,” he said in a sappy commercial voice.
“Love you, too.” She clicked End faster than a button on Family Feud.
No. No. No.
It couldn’t be true. She was overreacting. Her fingers tapped over the keys.
Exhaustion, nausea, moody, fifty.
The results filled her screen.
Pregnancy.
No. Not possible. She was on the pill. The doctor had changed her prescription, but she was sure it still worked. The search had to be wrong. She retyped her symptoms in a new order.
Fifty, exhaustion, nausea, moody.
Geriatric pregnancy.
The words struck her with a one-two punch.
Perhaps she’d hit menopause and it messed with her cycle. She felt like she was a sixteen-year-old facing a prom night mistake. Was this what Jewels felt like all those years ago? Poor girl.
Kat pushed from the desk and paced the study with the ornate wood paneling, down the hallway that led to the grand staircase, to the big empty gourmet kitchen, to the lanai, around the pool, downstairs to the staff quarters, upstairs to the viewing deck. No matter where she went, though, the word followed. She was late and moody and nauseated and lost.
And pregnant?
Wes held the Montblanc pen Kat had given him for Christmas two years ago. It hung over the line as if he would be signing over his soul instead of selling his company. The morning light scattered around the high-rise, splintering golden hues.
All night he’d reviewed his reasons for why he’d even entertained the idea of giving up his life’s work for a woman. He’d done nothing but work for the last twenty years to build his empire, working as a lawyer while starting his company then full-time at nothing but his business, only to sell it now. But in the last five years, he’d barely been able to see Kat when both their schedules lined up, which happened about as often as a total eclipse.
Since he’d met her, his values, needs, and desires had changed. Now, he longed for his workday to end to catch a glimpse of her passing in the evening on her way to her home office to work.
He touched the pen tip to the paper. “Do it, man,” he said aloud as if to order his body into submission. There was no reason to hang on to his company. He’d taken Facile from local attorneys to national to global. Now, he’d grown the software company as far as he could, and it wasn’t like he had an heir to take over running it. No children had been agreed upon from date one with Kat. One thing that had worked between them from the start. He’d sworn never to have children, and since Kat was fifty and he was fifty-two, it wasn’t an issue with her anymore. No one in their right mind would have a kid at this age.
His hand scribbled the W, but he hesitated. “Do it for Kat.” There was nothing more he wanted in life now than to enjoy the money he’d made, and selling his company afforded him that luxury. The idea of sweeping sweet Kat away from work to enjoy life together. Besides, he had some exciting ideas of what to do next. He’d thought about what came next in his early retirement. He wanted to pass on his legacy of knowledge and use his connection and money to do something meaningful. He’d have time to flesh out how to do that now. The idea of Kat and new possibilities urged him to scribble the rest of his signature. Before he gave it another thought, he stuffed the contract into the folder and set the pen on top.
Now that that was done, he needed to grab his stuff and head to the airport, making one stop along the way. He snagged his suitcase and rolled on out of their top-floor apartment overlooking the city—a view they’d both fallen in love with when they’d bought the place, but now he wanted to see oceans and mountains and Kat in a bikini.
He took the elevator to the lobby and paused at the front desk to speak with Thomas. He was more than a doorman. He’d become a friend over the years. A friend he’d miss. “Hey man, how’s it going?”
“Good. Bundle up. The hawk is flying.” He pointed to the large-screen TV overhead that said, Baby, it’s Cold Outside. Chiberia is coming.
“Thanks for the warning. I won’t miss these temperatures.”
“Where you off to?” Thomas picked up a pen and opened his old-fashioned journal.
“Summer Island, Florida, where sun will warm my skin and Kat will warm my heart.” Had he really just said that? Wow, he’d become cheesy.
“I sense something special going on in that brilliant brain of yours.”
Someone opened the front door, sending a bitter blast through the lobby. Thomas tightened his coat, and Wes buttoned his up, wrapped the scarf around his neck, and plopped his hat on his head. Perhaps his next venture could be to help Thomas better his life beyond standing in a cold doorway. Although, the man always appeared happy. Besides, he wanted to do something meaningful, beyond business, busy work, and boosting one man’s opportunities. He shook off his spinning thoughts and focused on the now. “I’m off to pick up something special.”
“The ring? You going to finally propose?” Thomas rounded the front desk and removed his glove, holding his hand out to Wes. “Good luck, man. As my daughter would say, you two deserve a romcom happily ever after.”
Wes shook his hand. “I agree. And I’m going to head out to make that happen. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, so if you don’t mind—”
“I’ll keep an eye on your place, even check for any winter pipe issues daily.”
“Great, thanks.”
Wes dared the icy chill, but despite the burn on his cheeks, his body remained warm—warm with the idea that he’d be with Kat and engaged by the end of the day. And if she was willing, back on their private island getaway by the end of the week. He snuggled his cashmere scarf—the one Kat had given him last Christmas—and rolled his small suitcase behind him. Nothing would stop him from picking up the ring.
He only hoped that she’d say yes this time. New ring, new proposal, new life.
She’d been a little distant the last week, but chatting over text and video calls was impersonal at best. They needed quality time together, so he managed the salted sidewalk to the jeweler’s, where he’d personally designed the ring.
Keith, their regular salesman, opened the red box with gold leaf etching to reveal the five-carat teardrop with two rounds of small diamonds encircling the center stone. Classic, beautiful, elegant—a perfect ring for Kat. “Thank you.” He took the ring box, wrapped in a gold bow, tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket, and raced to the airport, catching an earlier flight.
The three-hour trip dragged like the opera he’d taken Kat to in an attempt to impress her on their third date. To his relief, she’d fallen asleep halfway through, one of the many reasons he loved her. That and their shared dream of living life to the fullest, free and happy together. He’d never met a woman willing to forego family for fun.
He fidgeted the entire flight and gripped the wheel tightly in the rental car, realizing he didn’t have a plan to propose. Perfect ring, check. Perfect woman, check. Perfect life, check. Perfect proposal? Nada.
The bumpy road into town jolted his nerves, and the tiny buildings with people waving at him made him uneasy. Come on, man. Get it together.
He’d planned on taking her to their favorite restaurant in Chicago, but when she’d changed her plans to stay, he knew he needed to come up with a new idea. Sunset on the beach? Too cliché for Kat. Romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant? He eyed the shack to his left and the tiny, weathered wood of a place called Cassie’s Catch on the right that looked like a local fish dive.
His nav shouted at him to turn left and warned that her home would only be a few blocks away. Perhaps he’d just be waiting at the front door on one knee with the ring held out when she answered. Yes, that could work. Not too fancy but a statement that he couldn’t wait another minute to make her his wife. She’d say yes this time, he knew, because they’d talked about it when they were away together. He’d made it all through his thirties and halfway through his forties, never thinking about proposing, only to make this the fourth proposal to the same woman.
He pulled into the drive of a massive mansion-style home with a wrought iron fence and rust-colored Italian roof tiles. So much for a little summer cottage. It didn’t matter. They had the money. Whatever Kat wanted, he could give her, and she deserved everything.
The hot, sandy air beat on his skin, and sweat pooled at his collar before he even opened the back door to retrieve the ring from his coat pocket. He’d known it would be hot here, but this felt like Hades at high noon as Thomas would say.
With his pulse patting faster than his feet on the front stone walkway, he raced up the few front steps to the oversized iron double doors. One, two, three deep breaths and he rang the bell, stepped to the side, hopefully out of camera range, knelt down on one knee, holding up the ring, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.