Maren gritted her teeth. “I’m just saying. I would get a jump on it.”
I looked at my watch. “Hopefully there’s still time.”
“I’m gonna head home,” Maren said, draining the last of her wine.
“Can’t thank you enough, Mare.”
“You’re welcome, but when you really think about it, aside from getting her to yoga and giving you her spare key, you came up with everything else.”
For a second, I was puzzled. “I did? It really felt like a group effort.”
“Nope, this was all you. I love that deep down you’re a romantic softy.” She rose to her feet and kissed me on the forehead. “Don’t ever change.”
“Aww,” I said, taking her hand and planting a kiss on her knuckles. “You’re too sweet. Thanks for meeting me, especially on such short notice.”
“I’d do anything for Lyra…and for you,” she said with a wink. “Get some sleep tonight.”
“Will do.”
As soon as she walked away, I grabbed my phone and called every florist within a three-mile radius of Lyra’s apartment. It was time to set my plan in motion.
Chapter 28
LYRA
I was a little bummed that I hadn’t heard from Dev since telling him I was ready. I knew he was crazy about me, and knowing him, he was planning something cool for the weekend, but it still would have been nice to resume our flirty texting, to capture a little bit of who we were before everything fell apart.
Luckily Maren helped distract me with our Thursday night yoga class. And it was a good one. Our instructor, Luna, pushed us hard on our poses, and I left the class feeling incredible. Not only did my muscles feel that familiar relaxed stretch that they always had after a class, but the silence offered me clarity about Dev. Things were going to be just fine. We were going to be just fine.
When I opened the door to my apartment, I gasped. The kitchen was aglow with candles, and I could hear music playing. I paused for a moment, trying to recognize the song. And then I heard it. “Over the Rainbow,” the same version that plays at the end of You’ve Got Mail, the one by Dev’s favorite singer, Harry Nilsson. Down at my feet, I saw the petals. Golden yellow petals of all different sizes and shapes formed a path that led down the hall. A small sign was handwritten on a tented piece of cardstock.
Follow the Yellow Brick Road…
My breath caught in my throat as I followed the path through my kitchen. On the island were more than a dozen takeout containers stacked on top of one another like styrofoam sandcastles.
I noticed there was writing on the top boxes of each of the seven stacks. At first, I’d assumed he’d written “TRUCE” on all of them like I had with the pancakes, but each box looked different. And so I read them, realizing they formed a phrase I was all too familiar with.
How
Ardently
I
Admire
And
Love
You
“Oh my God,” I said, staring at the words, Jane Austen’s words. Mr. Darcy’s words. And now it appeared they were Dev’s words as well.
I opened one of the containers and laughed, looking down at an order of samosas. I opened another and then another. All samosas. The savory scent tickled my nostrils and I breathed it in, my stomach growling loudly. Obeying my hunger, I popped one into my mouth as I heard the music change to “Put You in a Song.” He was playing me his “Lyra” playlist. With a smile of recognition, I followed the yellow petals into the living room. When I saw what waited for me there, I covered my mouth with my hand, my eyes welling with tears.
The coffee table was set up just like it had been on New Year’s Eve. Three candles at the corner, all cranberry-and-pine scented. The unicorn card game was set up, cards already in the discard pile as if we’d been playing the game. A bottle of Tito’s and cans of seltzer made me giggle as I stared down at the setup. It was then that I heard him. He cleared his throat, and I turned toward the hallway. Dev stood with four bouquets of hot-pink dahlias.
“Hi,” he said, a warm smile on his face. “Sorry for breaking into your place. I had help, though.”
“Maren?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Maren.”
“I can’t believe you did this.” I said, tears streaming down my face as I looked around my glowing apartment.
He handed me the flowers and placed a kiss on my cheek, wiping a tear from my face with his hand. “Thank you for being ready.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, my voice cracking, looking at the coffee table. “It looks just like that night.”
“My whole world changed sitting at a coffee table in the middle of a power outage. And that power outage was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Me too,” I said, holding back tears that threatened to pour from my eyes. My heart was so full as I looked around the apartment.
“I’d like to propose a permanent truce.”
“Oh really?”
“Yep.”
“That’s a tall order.”
“I think once I win you over, I’ll get you to agree.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve read Jane Austen’s books.”
“You what?” I said, stunned, staring at him with wide eyes. I figured he’d just googled the quote on the takeout boxes. I never dreamed he’d invest hours into reading my favorite novels. I was taken aback in the very best way.
“Yep. Every last word. I finished the last one this morning. I see why you love them so much.”
“I…I can’t believe you read them.”
“Cover to cover, babe.”
“So, I’ve gotta know… Which one’s your favorite?”
“Pride & Prejudice, hands down. But Sense & Sensibility really pulled at my heartstrings, I’m not gonna lie. Fucking Willoughby. Such a douche.”
A loud cackle escaped my list. “Yeah, Marianne dodged a bullet on that one.”
“So, what do you think about Elizabeth Bennet?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing that Maren had compared me to her more times than I could count.
Dev stepped forward, placing one hand on the side of my face. “She’s my favorite. My absolute favorite.”
“Darcy’s pretty swoon-worthy too,” I said, again laughing at all the times Maren called Dev my Mr. Darcy and how quickly I’d dismissed her every time. Now I stood in front of my Darcy, completely under his spell. It was all so surreal. “I can’t believe you read them.”
“And I’ll do it again. I’ll start a book club if you want, all Jane all the time. I’ll watch The Wizard of Oz as much as you want, I’ll even stop bitching about Dorothy’s poor choices. I’ll try skiing again, because you really kicked that hill’s ass.”
“And I’ll take care of you when you break another bone.”
“Hey, it was a sprain,” he said with one corrective finger raised. “I’ll watch as you dance to Keith Urban in the kitchen. I’ll take another yoga class.”
“Another?”
“Yeah,” he said, looking a little sheepish. “I took a class this weekend…the morning I came over with the sopapillas.”