UP AHEAD, there’s a park entrance. Central Park is huge, but there’s outdoor ice skating there. It’s at least a place to start. I hurry through the entrance, stopping short as soon as I’m on the path.
Even in early March, the trees bare, the snow on the ground half-melted, the park is beautiful. It’s like I’ve stepped into a secret garden. Streetlamps illuminate the winding path, and for half a second, I forget that things are close to falling apart. There’s a pond ahead, the water dark and glossy. The moon sits in it like a chip of silver. The sight of it steadies me. I walk forward slowly, turning my head everywhere in case he wandered off the path. The cold doesn’t bother him the way it does me, so I wouldn’t put it past him to go tromping through the snow in his fancy dress shoes.
Speaking of shoes, my toes are freezing. I bite my lip, wincing with each step.
I can’t believe I was ever afraid to tell him about my feelings. That I thought I could give him my trust without my heart. I don’t want to be anything like Richard, struggling to tell his own son how he feels. I love Cooper, and if I’m being honest with myself, I started falling for him the moment we first spoke.
Whatever I thought about him before, whatever walls I thought I could keep around my heart—none of that matters anymore. And if I need to wander around all night to find him so I can tell him that, then that’s what I’ll do.
I spot a sign for the Wollman Rink and start hurrying, my heels clacking against the pavement. I try his phone again, but again it goes to voicemail. I wrap my arms around myself and call his name. “Cooper!”
The path turns around a group of trees—and then I see him, staring at an ice rink. The rink is larger than I thought it would be, lit with floodlights and the light spilling out of the high-rises in the background. It’s surrounded by trees, tall pines and maples stripped bare because of the season. Even though it’s nighttime, there are plenty of skaters on the ice. Pop music plays from the ticket booth. The whole scene reminds me of the music box my mother used to keep on her dresser; tiny skaters going around in circles while ‘Für Elise’ played. Now that box belongs to me, but it’s in my closet.
I’m putting it on my own dresser the second we get home.
Cooper’s back is to me, but I would recognize him anywhere. His broad shoulders, the way his hair curls over his collar. My heart swells in my chest.
That’s my guy.
“Cooper!” I shout as I run over.
He turns, his eyes widening when he spots me. He catches me when I slip right in front of him, steadying my shoulders. “Penny? Jesus, you’re freezing.”
Before I can ask, he takes off his tuxedo jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. He glances down at my feet, then back at me. He arches an eyebrow. “Risking your toes for me, Red?”
I smile, relief flooding through me. If he’s okay enough to tease me, then that’s a good sign. “Cooper, I’m so sorry.”
His expression shutters. “I’m sorry I left you there.”
“It’s okay. I mean, I’m worried about you, and I’m sort of worried I am going to lose a toe, but it doesn’t matter. Because I love you.”
He pulls away, putting several feet of distance between us. I hate the loss of his touch; I hate it more than anything in the world.
“You don’t need to say it for me,” he says. His voice sounds hollow. “You don’t need to say it at all.”
I pull his jacket tighter around me. “I do. And this isn’t for you, it’s for us. It’s like you said.”
“I’m never anyone’s first choice, Pen. You don’t have to pretend I’m yours.” He scrubs his hand over his face, looking at the rink.
I’ve never seen him sound so defeated. It terrifies me. To think I had a hand in making him feel this way—I can’t bear it. “You are my first choice. That’s why I’m standing here right now.”
“Why did you want to get with me in the first place?” He laughs, and it’s an ugly sound, nothing like his usual melodic laughter. “You wanted experiences without strings. A safe option. You wanted something from me, and I delivered it, and maybe this is where it ends.”
“No.” My voice sounds thin. Scared. “No, goddamnit, you’re not listening to me. That’s not what this is.”
His eyes look flat. Nothing like the dynamic blue I’m used to. “Then tell me.”
I swallow, forcing myself to keep looking into his eyes. I’ve been giving him pieces of myself for months, and now—faced with possibly losing it all—I know that the journey it took to get here was worth it. Every ugly piece of my past was worth it because it meant meeting Cooper. “It’s like I’ve been falling all my life, and I finally landed somewhere safe. You’re safe, and I love you. That’s the truth.”
“Penny,” he says, his voice breaking.
“Please, Cooper. I’m choosing you first. Over everything. Choose me back.”
Finally, finally, he reaches out and pulls me into his arms. I sob, burying my face in his chest. His hand strokes down my back, and he murmurs, low and rough, “I’d choose you in every universe. I took my heart out of my chest and handed it over to you, raw and red, and it’s yours forever. You own it, and even if you try to give it back, if you abandon it, I won’t take it.”
“Will you take mine?”
He tilts my head up and kisses me. “Yes.”
“Forever?”
“Forever.”
I sob-laugh, wiping at my eyes. “Good. Because we need each other. And what cat parents would be if we got divorced?”
He hugs me tighter. For a long moment, we just breathe each other in. Even though I’m still shivering, I feel warm inside and out.
“Don’t even say that word,” he murmurs. “When we get married, that’s it, Red. Tangy’s just going to have to deal with us being insufferable.”
Marriage. I like the sound of that. As far as I’m concerned, we belong to each other already, but one day, it would be nice to make it official. I don’t care what the future looks like, so long as I get to spend it with him.
He puts his chin on top of my head, sighing like he’s put upon. “You’re shaking. We’re not declaring our love for each other and then dying in a snowbank in the middle of Manhattan, come on.”
I glance over at the rink. “You know what would warm us up?”
The dude operating the ticket booth and skate rentals seems bemused to hand us each a pair of skates, plus a pair of ugly but necessary athletic socks for me. Cooper needs the cheering up, and I need just a bit more magic from this night.
We skate onto the rink holding hands. It’s awkward, holding up my skirt far enough I don’t run right over it, but Cooper keeps me steady. We’re not skating well—it’s laughable, for a figure skater and a hockey player—but that doesn’t matter. He keeps stopping, balancing us both so we can kiss. Eventually, we give up the pretense and just sway in place. Whenever I look up, I can’t decide whether to stare at him—my new forever—or the glittering handfuls of stars in the sky.
I think it’s the best skate I’ve ever had.
