I do not own The Magic of Ordinary Days.
I am on a tangent for it though.
A Real Chance
". . . -uth is, I don't know if I deserve you. How do you know this could work?"
And the thing was, he didn't.
Raymond Singleton didn't know that the arranged marriage between himself and Olivia Dunne could work.
Not if she was intent on giving up, leaving.
Going back to Denver, hunting down the man that had put her in the position she found herself in.
Him, or some other man.
Some other man, or her sister.
Raising the baby alone, with her sister's help, a nanny, some great aunt or other.
Eventually getting her heart's desire, flitting here and there around the country, around the world.
On treasure hunts, archaeological digs.
Focusing her exertions on her past, other people's past.
Instead looking at the small, ordinary miracles that presented themselves to her here in everyday life.
The crops that grew, the animals, her butterflies, that made her smile and laugh.
The fact that the world grew dead and cold in the winter, yet everything bloomed back brighter and stronger come spring.
Him and her together, here, now, in this moment.
Why, if she had never found herself in the compromising position that upended her life, caused her so much pain and misery and uncertainty.
And brought her to him and him to her.
He would love her all the days of her life, protect her, cherish her, support her.
Whether or not she would give herself to him, grow to love him in some small way.
If only she would stay.
And . . .
". . . forgive yourself."
And embrace the life she had here, embrace it and embrace him.
Maybe some day.
If she would only . . .
". . . stay, Livy. Give us a chance. A real chance. Please."
And he stood there, watching her, drinking her in.
Wishing for, hoping for, dreaming for . . .
A miracle.
And he sees the tears track their way down her face, eyes bright and shining.
The small smile that creeps across her mouth, even as she is crying and holding her stomach.
"Ray, I . . ."
And he feels more tears overflow his eyes.
And he doesn't wipe them away.
Doesn't pretend he's not.
He saw his father cry only on a handful of occasions.
The death of his mother, his grandfather.
He knows men aren't supposed to.
But he also knows they are people with emotions, no matter what they say.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
He isn't crying for her attention.
But he isn't hiding it from her.
She needs to know how he feels, how he truly feels.
Perhaps if he had done so earlier . . .
She would have recoiled at the sight of him.
Or tried to pretend out of pity.
No, things have gone the way they have gone and couldn't have gone any other way to get them to this point.
He can only hope, that with this final, heartfelt plea, this desperate outreaching . . .
Please, Livy, please-
. . . she will reach back.
And finally forgive herself.
And take his hand.
And let him . . .
"Ray . . . yes . . . yes, Ray."
. . . love her.
And Livy, holds out her hand, she's crying and her hand is shaking, he's crying and his hands are shaking as he slips the ring on and . . .
"I love you, Livy, you don't have to say it back if you don't want to, but-"
. . . they're crying together and she's shushing him, shushing him in sweet, trembling tones, the tips of her fingers pressed to his lips and-
"Hush, Ray. I love you, I love you so much, thank you for not giving up on me, on us . . ."
And he's kissing those fingers and she's bursting into watery laughter and he's following suit and-
And he's stepping forward, wiping her tears away with his thumbs and she's reaching up and wiping his tears away, still laughing and crying at the same time and-
And they're mirroring each other, they're taking care of each other in this moment and hopefully all the moments to come and-
And he's daring to kiss her, kiss her lips with his own, light and still careful and inexperienced, but loving and this time, this time she's kissing him back and they're pressing their foreheads together and sort of swaying together and breathing, trying to breathe, trying to regain control of their emotions-
And Ray Singleton feels happier, more hopeful, than he has in a long time, since he found that cursed letter and-
"Ray? I . . . I have to go. I promised to help Florrie and Rose."
She draws a deep breath, deep and shaky.
"But I promise I'll be back, I promise. And then we can . . . we can . . ."
"We can what?" he dares to ask.
And she laughs and it's still teary but it's beautiful too.
"I don't know!"
And they're laughing together again, expelling all their wired up energy and tension.
"But we'll figure it out. Together, okay?"
And he nods, completely unwilling to let her go.
But he must.
He must never hold her back, everything must always be her decision, her want.
And so he nods in agreement.
Pressing his forehead to hers, just for a second longer and then . . .
"Okay."
. . . he lets her go.
And she goes.
But first . . .
"I love you, Ray."
. . . she comes back for another embrace.
"I love you, Livy . . ."
And kiss.
". . . forever."
Or two.
I was not ready for this scene to end.
So I wrote this.
Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading!
:)