The Note by Natalie Wrye (urban books to read .TXT) 📗

talk to Miss Gloves-On for a second. I’ll give you both a few minutes.”

And with that, we kiss, only for him to exit seconds later, a smile on my face as Noah faces me, his handsome grin smug. Nancy enters as he leaves, her ruby dress matching her smiling lips as she whistles over her shoulder, her voice a hiss.

“Were you guys doing the nasty?” She asks.

“Would that be any of your business?”

“It would. If I’m going to touch any surface in this bathroom. I need to know what I’m getting myself in to.” She smirks. “Is everything okay? Just wanted to check on you two. Jesse told me Noah was coming up behind you. Maybe even followed you in.”

“Everything’s okay now. Better, actually.” I attempt a smile. “Now that you showed up.”

“Now, you’re not just saying that to butter me up, are you?”

“If I say yes, would you let me?”

“Depends on what the butter is made of…and which Hemsworth brother is smearing it on.”

I look deeply into the eyes of the woman I’ve grown to love and respect, a pixie powerhouse, hugging her despite it all, needing her comfort almost more than she needs mine.

With her warm smile and bright eyes, she appears so much like her brother. Protective and Proud.

And it takes everything in me not to tell her. Not to confess that I know what happened to her father and who’s the man responsible.

But when I wrap my arms around her, I can’t help but feel the shape of the paper in her pocket, jutting just outside the lines of her dress. She pulls back, glancing over at me with a wicked grin, and I know that I’m prepared to face whatever else is on the other side of the skeletons in our closet.

When she pulls out the note and hands it to me, I’m unprepared.

Not daring to question the undaunted look in her eyes, I unfold the white square, starting slow.

I read the writing, my eyes scanning back and forth, feverish to figure out what the hell’s going on.

I’m even more confused when I see my name at the top.

My breath catches in my esophagus.

Sophia,

Believe me when I say this:

I never meant for this to happen.

But I swore, one day, I would find a way to pay you back.

Pay you back…for all that you’ve done to me.

If you’re reading this, then I’m hoping that Jesse didn’t pull out the emergency story.

The one where, in order to save time, he pretends that something awful happened…

Something to distract you from the truth.

(Please, if he did this, don’t even tell me what the story was. I heard his ideas. They’re just as awful as the false news he planned on pitching to buy time.)

Truth is?

Jesse + Marilyn rescheduled their wedding.

Marilyn’s still shooting overtime on that new successful season of hers. And Jesse is still trying to make things work with your father.

And speaking of fathers, I should have told you about mine long ago.

I know that you know.

And honestly?

I should have told you weeks ago. Because I know you don’t care about who my father is or was, just in the same I’ve chosen not to care who’s yours.

Because you, Miss Somerset: You are more than your past.

You are a magnificent friend. A beautiful sister. A brilliant painter.

A dreamer. And a fairytale believer.

Most importantly, after today, I’m hoping you’ll agree to be something else…

My wife.

Consider this an I.O.U.

P.S.

You were right. You’re not the liar.

I am…

Signed,

Big Bad Wolf

One tear falls to the page as I finish the note. A flawless princess cut diamond taped to the bottom of the paper catches the brunt of the small fall, and I wipe the salty drop with my finger, barely finding the oxygen to breathe as I remove the glittering diamond from the page.

When I glance up, Nancy’s sneaking out, making way for someone else.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his full mouth, a twinkle in his eye that matches the ring. Tuxedo on, dark hair carefully mussed, he stands from where he was leaning against the doorframe, making every part of my body clench.

Sublime in everything he wears, he is other-worldly now in his dark suit. Bow tie tight, shoulders square, he moves towards me, royalty in motion, looking every ounce of the “Prince in the Tower” that I painted in his image.

A painting that even now I still won’t sell to the Dweller gallery.

Being a full-time contributor now to the Dweller Gallery after their job offer had its perks; choosing which paintings I allowed them to sell them was another one, just another cog in the machine of my artistic dreams.

Dreams I was currently living.

Especially as Noah gazes down at me.

He kisses my forehead with one touch. “You ready to do this? I’ve wanted this from the moment I saw you, Sophia Somerset. Please… Be my wife.”

And that’s when I realize: I am ready.

Ready to be a friend to Nancy or Drew. A sister to Jesse. A painter. A dreamer. A fairy-tale believer.

And from what I just read from Noah, a beautiful man’s fiancée.

I hold my head high, ready to enter the next stage of my life with a man who makes some secrets worth keeping.

I won’t tell him that this I.O.U. is so much better than mine ever could be.

Not for these next few hours, anyway.

I won’t interrupt this fairytale for anything.

Not with Nancy ushering us out of the small bathroom and into the church hall to the happy applause of our friends and family.

Noah drops to one under the stained glass, and I’m just about to answer “yes.”

That is, until I notice Nancy slapping my brother in the corner, a frustrated look on her face as she harangues him. The small crowd stares at the small interaction.

Including me.

“My dad, Jess? Really?” She asks.

“I couldn’t think of anything else. And I panicked. For some reason, your dad was the first thing that came to my mind. Maybe because I was thinking of my own… I never thought