He sighs, picking up his phone. “Wilma?” She replies a second later. “Please clear my schedule. And can you bring in two black coffees?”
I shuffle in my seat, a ball of nervous energy. This is the first step, and I’ve never been more curious to see how it ends.
Peering at my reflection in the mirrored elevator wall, I touch up my plum lipstick and straighten out my black dress. Everything has to be perfect. The doors open, and I hesitate. I’ve never been more scared. Once I step out of this car, everything will change. The scary part is, I don’t know if that change will be for the better.
I can do this.
I thank my mom for her stupid catchphrase as I walk toward Roman’s door. When it opens, all my fears and worries disappear. I’m doing this for the man I love. I know he’ll see reason—eventually.
“Wow,” Roman exclaims, examining me from head to toe. “You look amazing.”
“This old thing?” I tease, attempting to hide my embarrassment.
He smirks while I remind myself to breathe. “Come in.” I step forward, only for him to pull me into his arms.
Peering up at him from under my mascara-clad lashes, I hope he doesn’t note my nerves. If he looks hard enough, I know he’ll be able to see.
“I missed you,” he huskily declares.
“I-I missed you too.” My heart begins to beat faster and faster.
“You’re shaking. What’s the matter?” With the gentlest of touches, he brushes the hair from my cheek.
“I…I need to talk to you.”
He arches a brow. “About what?” His voice is swimming with suspicion and alarm.
“Let’s go inside.” I reach for his hand and guide him inside. He follows, but his body is suddenly wound tight.
I wanted to lead in a little more subtly, but I should have known he’d see right through me. Nevertheless, I lead us over to the couch, but I don’t think I can sit still.
“What’s going on?” He folds his arms over his chest, waiting for me to explain my bizarre behavior.
“I, just…can you sit?” I rub my forehead, unhappy with how this has started. His lips pull into a thin, angry line, but he eventually complies.
The mood is set for a romantic evening; pillar candles flicker warmly around the room, and a bottle of wine is on the table. But that will have to wait.
I stand in front of him, wondering how to start this conversation. I’ve practiced what to say a million times in my head, but my mouth has unexpectedly been struck mute.
Roman leans forward, legs spread, his stance ready to pounce. “Lola?”
“I…I…” I need to move. I begin pacing, scolding myself for getting stage fright at the worst possible time. The words sit like a heavy lump in my throat.
Exhaling, I decide to show, rather than tell, because each second wasted is edging Roman closer to the edge. Reaching into my bag, I retrieve the folder I showed Dr. Carter. It’s grown since today. He’s given me everything I need, and my pitch is now flawless. The choice is now Roman’s.
Passing him the folder, I snatch it back quickly when he reaches for it. “Promise me something.”
He huffs, annoyed. “Okay.” He gives me his full attention.
“Promise me you will read through everything before you say a word.”
“Lola,” he warns.
“Promise me,” I press. “Promise me you’ll read this with an open mind.”
His brows knit together, and he shakes his head, utterly baffled, but then he finally nods. He knows he has no choice but to agree if he wants to see what’s inside because my unyielding stance is final.
Satisfied, I loosen my hold and pray that this doesn’t backfire.
Before he opens it, I add, “And remember our wager. You have to do everything I say starting from now.” I need to lighten the mood.
He frowns, not amused.
This is it. I will my racing heart to calm down. It is the reason I’m here.
Roman skims his palm across the front, deep in thought. Does he know the contents could change his life forever?
“Whatever happens, remember I love you more than life itself. Everything I do…I do for you.”
He peers up at me; he looks as lost as I feel. He nods before opening what I can only hope is his future.
I can’t bear to watch, but I also can’t bear to look away. His expression is stoic. I know this is just the beginning of what’s to come. He reads the first page, his brows scrunching in confusion.