As Daniel made his way down the hallway of his London flat in the morning, he noticed it was quiet and the doors to his kids' rooms were closed. He assumed that they must still be fast asleep after staying up so late watching a 'Harry Potter' movie the night before.
Aiden Bradford was almost ten and was obsessed with that franchise, books, video games, and basketball. His sister, Isabella Rosa, was almost six and loved practically anything her big brother loved as well as dolls, stuffed animals, dance, and fashion. They both had dark hair and blue eyes. They were so smart, funny, and sweet. He couldn't have asked for more perfect children.
He went downstairs and paused to admire his beautiful wife in the kitchen. She was spreading cream cheese on what smelled like a slightly burnt onion bagel and going through one of her post-it schedules. It reminded him of when she was his assistant at MODE. She might have changed on the outside – no braces, Lasik vision, more stylish wardrobe and haircut - but she was still the same Betty as ever. He was so lucky to have her in his life.
He thought back to the day they had finally figured things out between them. It had taken them hours to do so, but they'd finally laid out all of their baggage - all of their pent-up anger, fears, and feelings for each other - and really talked.
It had been a couple of weeks since he'd followed Betty to London. He was obviously overqualified for being her assistant. So Betty had insisted that he be her creative director instead. It was less paperwork and financial responsibility, which he hated. And more time dealing with concepts, celebrities, and photo shoots – which he enjoyed. However, this magazine was different than a fashion magazine and geared more toward politics and the real world. But that was a good thing. He needed a change, something more challenging. And there were still pop culture and style elements involved. Of course, the main attraction was that he got to work alongside Betty every day, like they used to.
Aside from a few hours at work, he and Betty were hardly apart. Going to dinner and movies, dancing close at parties, sightseeing or hanging out at her flat. They were inseparable . . . shamelessly flirting, handholding, affectionately touching or snuggling with each other. Only they never talked – really talked, anymore – not since Betty decided to leave New York. Which is probably why he shouldn't have been surprised or hurt when she suggested the following.
"Daniel, you really don't need to help me unpack. I'll get to the last of my boxes eventually," Betty told him, as pop hits from the 2000s played in the background from her iPod. "I bet you're sick of me by now. I'm sure there are other things you'd rather be doing, people you'd rather be seeing. Hey! How about my new neighbor, Emma? She seemed rather smitten with you."
His heart sank and he panicked.
"Uh, s-she's not really my type . . . I've kinda got a thing for brunettes, right now," he covered.
"Okay . . . How about –" she began to think when he interrupted her.
"You know any cute, perky women who used to wear braces, tacky ponchos, and red glasses?" he teased, hoping to steer her off the subject. "Ones who loved tattered pink bunnies, mermaids, and boy bands?"
" Daniel . . .!" she exclaimed in protest, playfully smacking him with a dish towel as she walked into the kitchen to put the rest away in a drawer. "I wouldn't get too cocky if I were you, Meade. You were dancing and belting out the lyrics to 'SexyBack' in your new office the other day. And don't try to deny it, because I have video evidence I could easily submit to Suzuki if I wanted."
"That-but-Betty-you-how did-I don't-what?" he spat out word salad, flabbergasted. Did she have x-ray vision or something?
"Our offices have connecting doors, Daniel. And relax. I'll just save it in case I need it in the future . . ." she proceeded to torture him. " Although, American Idol does have an audition blooper reel . . ."
"Don't even think about it, Suarez!" he warned. "Besides, that song's post-*NSync. It doesn't count."
"Whatever, Band Boy . . . I'm just glad I thought to record it all for my personal viewing pleasure," she smirked.
He now regretted giving her that Flip video camera for Christmas . . .
"Was I really that bad?" he wondered. "Because I always thought my karaoke was pretty good?"
"That song is actually great for your vocal range! But your dance moves definitely did not bring sexy back," she laughed, patting his cheek as she walked back over to the boxes.
Daniel sighed, embarrassed.
"Seriously, Betty, I came here for you – to be there for you, like you've always been there for me," he reminded her, continuing to open a moving box.
"That's really sweet, Daniel. But you don't owe me anything. I'm the one who owes you. If it weren't for you, I would never have earned this opportunity here," Betty told him, grateful for all he had done. "So. I think we need to focus on you. Find something that makes you happy. Someone who makes you happy. You haven't had a real girlfriend in a long time. And of course Emma's your type – gorgeous, leggy, big boobs . . ."
" Betty . . . You know it creeps me out when you say 'boobs'," he groaned. "And this really isn't necessary."
She smiled, rolling her eyes, and continued.
"Plus, she even has a degree from Oxford, so there's no risk of her making you dumb," Betty smirked and picked up her phone. "I'll set something up for you two, tomorrow night."
" No! Betty, don't!" Daniel exclaimed, knocking the phone out of her hands, accidentally knocking her over in the process.
"Daniel . . .?!" she gasped, surprised and confused by his reaction.
The two friends stared at each other in an awkward silence for what seemed like an eternity before Betty finally spoke.
"H-How long have you known?" she inquired, slowly standing up with Daniel's help.
"Known what?" he feigned ignorance.
"Daniel," she pressed in that soft sympathetic tone that was all too familiar.
"Fine . . . I hate it when you know me . . ." he sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I've always loved you – you know that. You've been like family to me for so long – sometimes my only family."
"Oh, Daniel. You know you're my family, too, right?" she assured him. "Why else would I have gone out of my way to do all those crazy things for you over the years? You've been like the brother I never had. Sweet, protective, dorky, annoying . . . and one of the people I have come to admire and love the most. You're my best friend."
"Great! Now we know where we stand – brother and sister, friends," he stated, giving his signature thumbs up and fake smile.
"You're afraid that's all I feel right now, when all I was doing was agreeing with you that it's been difficult to wrap my head around anything more," she said.
He continued to hide his disappointment by sorting through another box. "Do you want these placemats on the table?"
"Will you stop deflecting?" she accused, putting the placemats back in the box. "Finish answering my question."
"What difference does it make, Betty?" Daniel scoffed.
"A lot. So humor me, okay?" she asked, taking his hand. "I'm not pitying you, I'm serious."
He looked down at their joined hands and relented.
"I-I guess on some level, I noticed things had started to change since last fall. There was something about you that was different. You were more grownup, you weren't my naïve little assistant anymore. You didn't need me as much – not that you ever really did," he mused.
"Of course I did. Maybe not for everything, but for the important things in my life. But I think that was true for both of us," she pointed out. "You didn't always go to me for help either. There was Natalie. You really hurt me when you pushed me away for her. You even brought her to our first official non-professional lunch together. I was looking forward to it being just you and me. You told her all of my problems, like she was my friend, too. Then you asked her to be your Plus 1 when I really needed you. And when she lured you into that damn cult, I was terrified for you . . . And you didn't open up to me about Tyler for a long time, either. Oh, and I had to catch you half naked outside of Amanda's door, before knowing that was going on again."
"I know. I know. And again, I'm sorry for all of that," he apologized. "It's just after I punched that flakey, spoiled little bastard ex of yours, we decided it was better if I didn't appear to give you special treatment at work. I guess I started distancing myself from you for a while. I figured I needed to find someone else to lean on – especially after you took Baby Fartley back. Why was that, again?"
"Real mature," she rolled her eyes.
"Marc came up with it," he shrugged.
"You know I could say the same thing for you and Amanda," she countered.
"She was kind of like my therapy. I didn't want to bother you at the time, especially with the fire at your family's house and everything, so I talked to her instead," Daniel explained. "Plus, you did tell me to go be a man-slut again . . ."
" Ewww!" Betty held up her hand and cringed.
Daniel chuckled.
"What?! It's not like we were serious," he defended. "I was having issues, both emotionally and . . . physically . . . She was a friend and that made it easier to gain my 'confidence' back because there weren't any strings attached."
Betty shuddered.
"I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't talk to me. But you can. Always. No matter what I'm going through, I'll always be there for you, Daniel," she promised and hugged him.
"Thanks, Betty. I guess I thought you knew that about me, too . . . that we were a team . . . I'm getting ahead of myself, though," he replied.
"Daniel –" Betty slowly broke away from their embrace and attempted to explain.
"Never mind. It's fine," he said. He needed to get some air. "You want me to go get us some Thai? I'm starving!"
Betty looked at her watch. It was only 9:30 am.
"Daniel, it's - You know what? That sounds great!" she feigned enthusiasm.
"I'll be back soon," he promised, squeezing her hand before he left.
A half an hour later and a little more relaxed, Daniel knocked on Betty's door.
Betty opened it with a surprised look on her face. "You came back?"
"I told you I would. The Thai place wasn't open yet . . . but you knew that already," he said, coming inside. He set coffee and a box of donuts on the coffee table and sat on the couch. "You really do know me, don't you?"
Betty sheepishly shrugged, sat beside him, and opened the pink donut box.
"Ah! You got my favorites! Maple with the cream, and glazed! Oooh! And a hazelnut mocha latte!" she happily shrieked, surprised. "This is even better than Thai!"
Daniel grinned, loving how the smallest things made her overjoyed.
"But . . . you're mad at me?" she remembered, confused.
"I'm not mad at you, Betty," he claimed.
Betty gave him her typical look of disbelief.
"Ok, maybe on some level, I am. It's just not easy for me to talk about our past and I don't want to hurt you by saying something I can't take back," he admitted.
"Daniel, we've been through so much together. You can tell me anything. Yell . . . scream . . . call me names . . . I'm not going anywhere," she reassured him.
"Good. You can always say anything to me, too. You usually do . . ." he teased.
Betty shoved a donut in his mouth in protest.
Daniel calmly broke off the rest of it, shoved it in her mouth, and gave her a satisfied look before she playfully tackled him.
He ended up surrendering and they cuddled on the couch together, each silently wondering how to move forward.
"You really weren't exaggerating about being a girl from Queens," he joked.
"Jackson Heights, baby! And for a pampered prince from Manhattan, you're not so bad yourself," she replied. "That reminds me about you punching Matt. Was that when you started to have feelings for me?"
Daniel gently sat both of them up before answering.
"No. I mean, not consciously anyway. I didn't want to see him hurt you, though. I'd just recently lost someone I'd loved and felt very defensive of those I still had," he revealed.
Betty nodded in understanding.
"Anyway, by the time you asked me to be your date to Hilda's wedding, we were more like equals. We were in a good place with each other, moving forward in our lives, exploring new possibilities. Then you wanted to take freakin' Grubstink instead – the guy who always hurt you. I was jealous and overprotective and it wasn't strictly platonic. You dismissed uninviting me like it was nothing. You chose him over me. It made me realize I was probably making more of your invite than I should have. I was really more of a placeholder, a last resort for you than anything else."
"Daniel, you know you meant more to me than that. I never wanted to hurt you. I honestly didn't realize I had. I never thought that going with me to my sister's wedding would be a big deal to you. I mean it was just celebrating with me and my family for a few hours. If anything, I figured it was more of an inconvenience for someone like you," Betty apologized.
"Betty, spending time with you has always been one of the best parts of my day. Just seeing your smile makes everything better. And I love your family, too," he assured her. "Getting into the most exclusive restaurants, clubs, or parties just to say I was there and get myself on Page Six – that was Old Daniel. I'd rather be with people I actually care about."
She smiled and blushed.
"So that was when you knew? When Henry showed up?" she assumed.
"Actually, it was after he was gone and I had dumped Trista. You took my breath away when you stepped out of the limo in that dress. Then Hilda made that speech that love was knowing someone better than they knew themselves and doing anything to protect them. She meant it about herself and Bobby, but it was you and me, too," he explained. "And there were all those love songs playing that got in my head. It was strange how they seemed to perfectly fit how I was feeling, you know?"
"Was that why you kept giving me those looks all night and refused to let Bobby's cousins cut in while we were dancing?" Betty asked. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I was too afraid to admit it to myself, much less to you. I kept telling myself it was just because of the wedding, and the champagne, and everybody gets a little emotional and sentimental. I thought I had time – that we had time to figure it all out," he confessed.
"I really screwed up the way I handled leaving, didn't I?" she cringed.
"A rehearsed speech filled with clichés like 'we'll always be friends' was really shitty of you, Betty. C'mon, you know that's one of my lines when I have a bad date and don't want to see them again . . ." Daniel scoffed. "It's actually how I broke up with Trista."
"I know, and I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that. I swear! It was harder for me to tell you, than anyone else. That's why I waited so long. How the hell could I let the one person who meant everything to me know that I was leaving? Especially when I wasn't ready to let them go? Just because I was moving on didn't mean I didn't still want you in my life, Daniel. I wasn't leaving you, I was leaving MODE," she assured him.
"Why the hell did you hide Dunne's offer from me in the first place? You always come to me with big decisions like that. We're a team, Betty. No lies. No secrets. I mean, I opened up my laptop one morning and got this bombshell message from Marc, of all people?! What the hell, Betty?! I thought we were closer than that?" he asked, enraged just thinking about it.
"Damn it, Daniel, you knew I loved you! I just didn't think I'd take it," she excused. "And when I did seriously consider the offer, I didn't come to you because I knew you'd do what you always do. You'd say how much I meant to you and the magazine, how you couldn't live without me. I'd take one look into your gorgeous blue eyes, see you trying not to cry, and fall into those big strong arms of yours. I'd make the safe choice. And I wasn't sure that that was what I needed to do that time."
"You really think I have strong arms? Cause I've been trying to work more on them lately, they're getting a little flabby . . ." he started feeling his biceps.
" Daniel. Focus," Betty rolled her eyes and attempted to draw him back to the subject.
"Oh, sorry," he said, sheepishly. "You're right, Betty. I was a selfish jackass. I was always holding you back. I wasn't trying to, though. I've always wanted you to succeed and fulfill your dreams both professionally and personally. I wanted you to be happy."
"It's okay. All those times that I stayed weren't solely for you, they were also because I wasn't truly ready to take those risks," she said.
After a moment of awkward silence she questioned, "I get why you didn't talk to me then, but you've been here for two weeks?"
"You had a new life, new job, new city to explore. I didn't want to ruin your happiness with such a bombshell confession," he defended.
"Daniel, I knew. Well, at least I thought I knew. And that's a lame ass excuse, even for you," she playfully threw a pillow at him.
"You knew? How?" he wondered, catching it.
"Your mom mentioned something about you having feelings for me, but not realizing them yet. I figured she was wishfully thinking. For one thing, it was crazy. It was us. And I assumed you hated me. You never came to my party or even called or texted me to say goodbye. So I gave up hope . . . until Amanda called and told me about your cryptic last Letter from the Editor and how you'd quit all of a sudden. She said no one knew where you'd gone. I was on the phone with her when you actually showed up in London," she explained. "I knew your family had a jet and a lot of money, so you could pretty much come and go wherever and whenever you wanted. But when you told me you were staying here . . . that you wanted to take me to dinner, I couldn't help but wonder if what your mom said might be true."
"Look, I know the way I handled things was pretty shitty, too. Setting fire to your release form, not saying 'Goodbye', shutting you out when you needed support and encouragement was, um . . . not cool," Daniel lowered his head in shame. "But I did come to your 'Goodbye' party. I watched you dancing and laughing with all your friends. The fact that you and Marc were hugging and he didn't once try to pry himself off of you was proof of how much you'd influenced everyone there. How infectious your attitude was. And you were happy. Truly happy to be starting a new chapter in your life. Who was I to take that away from you? So I buried my feelings and tried to move on from you. Then I realized . . . I didn't have to."
"You didn't say a word about any of this at our first dinner here - or at all? Ever since you came to London, we've spent all our free time together, Daniel. We flirt, hold hands, dance close to each other, snuggle on the couch and fall asleep watching movies. You've never once let it go farther than that, though. Not once have you even tried to kiss me or even hint at how you really feel. What the hell am I supposed to do but assume this is all you want from me – more than friends, but never crossing that line?" she asked, frustrated. "Am I the Amanda to your Marc? Because honestly they've seen more action together than we have."
" What?!" Daniel burst out laughing.
"No, I'm not kidding! One time, Amanda hid something from Wilhelmina for Marc in her bra. And after Wilhelmina walked away, Marc just reached right in and grabbed it like it was nothing," Betty giggled. "I did a double-take. I couldn't believe I'd just witnessed it."
" Oh my god! That's hilarious – and a little disturbing . . ." he chuckled.
"Exactly!" Betty agreed.
"Seriously, Betty. Anytime you lose or hide something down there, I'll be more than happy to help you out. Speaking of which, I think I remember seeing a few donut crumbs fall in earlier . . ." Daniel flirted, reaching for her top.
Betty playfully slapped his hand away from her fitted, scoop neck, Queens College t-shirt.
"Hey! Hands off the goods, Meade! We're not finished talking, yet," she reminded him.
"Right . . . So is that an invitation when we're done?" he couldn't help but ask, the corner of his mouth twitching.
" Daniel!" she shoved him in protest.
"You really are cute when you're mortified," he grinned, satisfied with her reaction.
"Why do I put up with you?" she asked, annoyed. "I'm going to unpack some more boxes. Are you coming?"
Daniel obediently followed her, thoroughly amused.
"Aww . . . the pillow you gave me a few months ago when I had the flu," she smiled, wistfully.
"Oh, yeah," he remembered. "I told you not to come in to begin with, but you had that big feature shoot on celebrity eyewear you were running. You felt so miserable that you passed out from a fever. You were burning up. I was so worried that I called my doctor to come look at you and had Wilhelmina take over everything.
"I remember waking up in your town car with my head on your chest and your arm around me. You took me home. You gave me a fuzzy pillow for some reason, and my favorite soup from that famous soup guy's shop," she recalled.
"That soup guy was a real bully. He almost kicked me out until I mentioned your name," Daniel remembered.
""That's because you didn't follow Al's directions. He loved me," Betty smirked and placed two plastic containers on the kitchen table. "Here. The silverware goes in the drawer by the dishwasher. The cooking utensils go in the drawers by the stove."
"The pillow was supposed to be for your head, so you could lie down in the town car. I stole it from Wilhelmina's office," Daniel recalled, as he put away the silverware in the wrong drawer.
Betty stopped him and put it in the correct place.
"But you were so delirious you insisted that I was your pillow – 'nice and firm' and the 'only one for you'," he remembered, amused.
"Oh my god! I must've been repeating something Gio told me in London," she buried her head in her hands, embarrassed. "He said there had only ever been one guy for me. I thought he was talking about Henry. I told him he was being ridiculous. But maybe my subconscious was trying to tell me something?"
"That Henry was your one and only guy?" he assumed. "You did drunk dial him after you saw Gio."
"No," she answered.
"So it was Matt,"he guessed.
"No, Gio didn't even know Matt," she said.
"Oh, right," he said. "That Wilbur guy?"
"No, you dumbass human pillow!" she playfully shoved him in frustration. "He was talking about you."
"Oh," he replied, surprised. Then he hesitantly asked. "So do you think that?"
"I do now. It all makes sense. Everything I've done to please you, never wanting to disappoint you, going out of my way to clean up your messes, choosing to put you first over everyone and everything else – even when I was no longer your assistant," she pondered. "As much as I fought the title and innuendo, I really was 'Daniel's Girl'. I guess I still am, because I would do it all over again."
"I'd do anything for you, too," he assured her.
"I know, and you always have," she smiled. "But why are you really in London? The truth."
"Betty, I'm standing right here because I missed you more than I could take. Living without you was unbearable," Daniel confessed.
"Daniel, I was barely gone for a week before you showed up here. We've both been on vacations longer than that," she pointed out. "You survived perfectly fine . . . well, you survived."
"This was permanent, Betty. You weren't accepting another job at Meade or even a different company in the city. I couldn't just drop by and hangout or take you out to eat. I couldn't hold you close and slow dance with you at parties or weddings. No more pep talks or I-told-you-so lectures. No more daily hugs or hourly smiles. No more elated shrieks when it was Meatless Monday or you found a free sample of dish soap. No more late-night takeout while we laughed and talked all night as we worked on the latest issue. You were moving to another country. You weren't coming back," he clarified as pools formed in his eyes.
Betty lowered her head in regret, fighting off tears.
"What is it that you want from me, Daniel? Because I thought I had it figured out when you showed up here. But you keep sending me mixed signals. What am I to you, now? Am I just your co-worker? Your really close friend? A potential fun buddy? Or do you want more?" she questioned.
"It's not that I don't want more, Betty. Believe me, I do. You're all I think about. But the last thing I ever want is to hurt you. And I had to be a hundred percent confident that I wasn't just being my impulsive and possessive self . . . that my feelings for you were real. Because it's you. It's us," Daniel defended.
"I'm not fragile, Daniel. You should have told me from the beginning – especially when you came to London. This entire time with you here has been so damn confusing. Wonderful, but confusing," she sighed in frustration.
"I'm sorry. This is new territory for me . . . falling for my best friend," he admitted.
"It's new to me, too. But we should be figuring this out together," she said. "We're a team, right?"
"Yeah –" he barely got out.
Betty grabbed Daniel's crimson Harvard t-shirt and pulled him into a mind-blowing first kiss. To begin with, it was rough, with a mixture of emotions. Then they both just sank into it as if they'd been with each other all along. Daniel's hands were in her hair, Betty's fingers were running along the nape of his neck then tracing his chiseled jawline as their tongues explored the depths of each others mouths. When they finally came up for air, Daniel was speechless.
"You thought it was weird, didn't you?" Betty assumed, unsure of how to read his reaction. "Do you want me to text Emma?"
"Don't you dare . . ." he grinned, pulling her in for another kiss so intense they stumbled into the kitchen table and fell flat on the floor, causing them both to laugh.
When they stopped, Daniel brushed the hair away from Betty's face and just smiled.
"What?" she asked.
"I love you," he confessed.
"I love you, too," she smiled, pulling him into another heated kiss that led to them making love for the first time.
" Damn . . . ! Did that really just happen . . . Again?" Daniel laughed, incredulously.
"If I remember correctly, after our second time, I tried to get us a snack for lunch and you picked me up and threw me back in bed because I was taking too long," Betty replied, her head on his chest. "Strawberries and whipped cream aren't enough to keep me going."
"They definitely were for me – especially the way they were presented . . . Speaking of which, I think I'm hungry again . . . Maybe there's some left here . . . or maybe over here . . . Daniel replied, sucking on her bottom lip and slowly leaving a trail of kisses over her body.
"Mmmmm . . . Daniel . . . Not that this isn't addicting . . . god, it's so addicting . . . but don't you think we're gonna need real food soon?" she moaned. "How about pizza? Where's your phone?"
Betty gasped and gripped the sheets as his fingers and lips traveled further south in response.
" More?! You're insatiable!" she giggled and pulled him back up to face her. "So this is what it really feels like to be with Daniel Meade . . ."
"And this is what it feels like to be with Betty Suarez . . ." he replied with a wicked gleam eyes, kissing her sound on the mouth.
"Daniel, I know I'm not as experienced or a size zero. You don't have to hide how you really feel. You can tell me the truth," she said, pulling the sheet closer to her body.
"You're gorgeous, Betty. You're so much better than any model. A sexy firecracker mixed with a gentle beautiful butterfly, if that makes any sense. You're perfect. Nothing else even comes close to what I feel when I'm with you," he assured her as he held her in his arms. "I can't get enough of you."
Betty blushed.
"It's weird. I've only been this close with three other guys, but out of all of them, I feel the most comfortable with you," she confessed. "You're my best friend, and instead of feeling awkward or nervous, I feel free and like we fit together. Maybe it's a good thing to know each other so well."
"Exactly," Daniel agreed. "I know I have a more extensive past, but I've always felt pressure considering my reputation. I don't with you. One minute, you make me laugh till I can't breathe, and in the next, manage to turn me on so fast it's insane. I love you so much, Betty."
"I love you, too. More than I ever thought was possible . . ." she admitted. "And it doesn't hurt that you really are the sexiest man alive. How did I get so lucky?"
"I'm the lucky one," he said as he held her close and kissed her cheek.
They stayed like that for a long time until Daniel finally spoke.
"You ok?" he asked.
"Yeah, just taking in the moment, you know? And wondering what our future could be like," she answered, then regretted it. "It's too soon, isn't it? I always have these stupid unrealistic fantasies about the guys I'm with or want to be with."
"Betty, it's okay. Everyone's allowed to dream. It's what helps make some of the most amazing books ever written. And sometimes those dreams actually come true. I know mine has," he assured her and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "So. What kind of future do you see?"
"Okay," she relented. "Promise you won't laugh, though."
"I swear," he said.
"I see us working on our magazine together, making it successful. I see us coming home to our apartment exhausted but content. We fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up there every morning. Eventually we have a beautiful wedding, blissful marriage, and a wonderful home. We have happy and healthy kids, cute fluffy dogs, and all of our family and friends are together with us during birthdays and holidays," she answered, absently tracing his chest with her finger. "Stupid and cliché, right?"
"Not if we share it together. It sounds perfect," he told her, pressing his lips to her temple. "In fact, I'll marry you right now."
"Ok," she smiled, half-joking. "Just let me find my white dress."
"I'll call Vera Wang," he replied. "And have Mom book The Plaza."
"I'll hire Vincent Bianchi as our photographer," she continued to play along. "And have Buddy Valastro make the cake."
"Deal!" he chuckled, holding up his hand for a high-five.
"You wanna high-five about our pretend wedding?" she skeptically hit his hand.
"Why not?" he shrugged.
"You're such a dork," she grinned and shook her head.
"But I'm your dork," he defended.
"Always," she smiled.
They held each other and enjoyed the silence, until Daniel's stomach growled.
"Sorry, Betty. I really wanna stay like this forever – holding you, making plans for our future. But I don't know if I can wait much longer on food," he apologized.
"Oh, now you want real food! I'll go find my phone," Betty rolled her eyes, put on his t-shirt, and went into the living room.
Daniel waited for a while, thinking she'd be back. When she wasn't, he put on his jeans and went to check on her. He found her on the floor in the living room unpacking more boxes.
"Hey, I thought you were coming back to bed?" he questioned.
"I did, too. But then I started to wonder how we're ever going to finish unpacking? There'll be three times as many boxes, soon. Unless you wanna auction all of your stuff off on eBay?" she teased.
"Is this your not so subtle way of telling me you wanna move in together, but don't like my taste in interior design?" he assumed, and discretely walked over to get something out of his jacket pocket. He'd had it since before he left for London, but he'd needed to wait until he was sure.
"The last apartment you decorated yourself had half-naked women plastered to the walls," she replied, still sorting through the contents of a container.
"Point taken," he admitted.
"Awww . . . my snail napkin from Madison 6," she smiled, wistfully. "Those were disgusting, but the pizza afterward was really good – and singing karaoke with you."
"That was one of the best dates I've ever had, 'Babe', he smiled, remembering their song.
"Ha, ha. And it wasn't a date, Daniel. We were boss and assistant," Betty corrected him.
"If I had taken anyone else it would have," he countered. "Being with someone, getting to really know them, telling them secrets I've never told anyone. Singing karaoke, crashing a wedding for free dessert, staring at the city skyline at night. That's an amazing date – not that I thought of it that way back then - but it was."
Betty smiled, shyly.
"So. Since you're so intent on unpacking boxes right now, maybe you could help me unpack this one?" he opened a blue Tiffany box, revealing a three karat cushion-cut double halo ring with a diamond platinum band, and placed it in her hand.
"Daniel?! I didn't mean . . . you don't have to . . . but we were just joking . . .? It's beautiful . . . how did you . . . when did you get this?" Betty questioned, completely flummoxed.
"Hey! Aren't I supposed to be the one asking the questions, here," he joked as he placed the ring on her finger.
"Not necessarily . . ." she countered, unable to take her eyes off of the ring. "I did a Features article on the history of proposals, remember? And more recently –"
"Betty!?" he pleaded.
"Sorry," she said, sheepishly. "So, you were saying?"
"Marry me, Betty?" he asked. "You're everything and so much more than I ever could have imagined. You drive me crazy in so many different ways. There's no one else I would rather spend the rest of my life with but you. You know me better than I know myself. You make me a better person, help me grow. You stand by me no matter what and I trust you more than anyone. I love and admire everything about you. Your compassion, your determination, your bravery, your intelligence, your beauty, your talent as a writer and editor . . . I could go on forever. I know I'm not perfect and I screw up all the time. But I promise I will do anything and everything to make you as happy as you make me."
"Daniel, there's no one else I'll ever want to be with but you. Of course, I'll marry you!" Betty smiled, tears falling down her cheeks. "And I finally realized something from what we talked about that night. You are the guy I was willing to swim across the East River in January for. You were right in front of me all along. I just couldn't see it – not until you swam across the Atlantic Ocean in April to be with me."
Daniel grinned and pulled her into a fervent kiss as they celebrated throughout the rest of the day.