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Maci and I stay so busy during that academic year that we don’t have the chance to catch up with each other until the next summer, when she comes home for summer break. I head to Maci’s house on her first night back in town, anxious to tell her everything that’s happened. I can’t wait show her the new techniques I’ve learned for glazing, or how smoothly I can join together two pieces of clay. The difference between my art before my internship and after my internship is amazing, even to me. I feel like I’ve really done a good job trying to become the artist I’ve always wanted to be. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m definitely on the right path.
I’m most excited to confess to her that Pierce and I have been engaged all this time. He’s getting a little impatient to start planning, but I can’t plan a wedding without my best friend. She wouldn’t have time during the school year, and I certainly didn’t want to bother her with it then because I just know she would have started immediately after I gave her the news. She’ll probably be a little annoyed that I didn’t tell her because of that, but I know she’ll be thrilled for me regardless. I just couldn’t bear the thought of her focusing on something like a wedding, when I know she wants to achieve her own dreams just as much if not more than I want to achieve mine.
When she opens her front door, we both shriek and dance around as we hug each other, for the first time in nearly a year. It’s a delight to be together again after so long. I love being with Pierce as much as I love my own life, but there’s nothing like spending time with your best friend. Back in her room, I get comfy on her ancient bean bag chair as we hunker down to catch up.
“Listen,” I say, feeling my face heating up. “This really was the best year ever, but I have something to confess.”
It’s freeing to blurt out that Pierce is so much more than my boss and share all of the things we’ve experience as our love has blossomed over the past nine months. Instead of being shocked, however, Maci is just as happy for me as I hoped. She asks me with hundreds of questions and instantly starts grilling me about the different I may or may not want for my wedding. I don’t even get the chance to ask her how her academics went for her first year, she’s too focused on vowing to help me plan the best wedding our town has ever seen.
“Oh my god, enough about me,” I finally say, trying to change the subject. “Tell me everything about your first year at college.”
Her face turns red as she leans closer, as if to tell an important secret of her own. “Um, I also have something to confess …”
Epilogue
Pierce
Six years later …
As I take down the box filled with small ceramic birds, I smile at the memory of Wren and I making them together to decorate for our wedding, six years ago today. I want to hang them all around the house to surprise her for our anniversary when she gets home. Pride wells up within me as I start placing them near the other works that fill our house to the brim.
I pause to admire one of the collections of small vases she created that I think is especially brilliant. Other people think so too. It’s high time she got a solo gallery show, and since getting ready for that has been keeping her so busy, even today, I’m pretty sure she’s forgotten it’s our anniversary. It doesn’t sting at all, actually. It’s not like six years is a huge milestone; every day we have together is a gift to me, so I always want to spoil her on each one.
Harper, our three-year-old, looks up from her block puzzle and toddles over to see what I’m doing. She reaches a chubby hand, stained with paint from our earlier foray into watercolors, toward the box.
“Pretty birdies,” she coos.
I hand her one, my heart welling with even more pride that Wren and I managed to make this perfect creation together. We’re a great team, and now, we have the world’s most beautiful, perfect child. No one can tell me otherwise, even though Wren thinks I’m insufferable when we get together with other parents. Fine, I once almost took a swing at another dad for suggesting his kid might be more advanced at shape recognition than Harper. It’s not big deal; I’m sure any dad would do the same.
“Mommy made that one,” I tell her.
“Mommy?!” she shouts, looking toward the door.
“Not yet,” I tell her. “You get to spend the night with Nana, remember? You’ll see Mommy tomorrow morning.”
She pouts for half a second before going back to admiring the birds. She winds up her little arm to chuck one at the wall. “Fly?”
“Nope, these little birds don’t fly, sweetie,” I tell her, neatly plucking it from her fingers.
It seems like she’s really going to excel at sports, loving to run, jump, and throw things far more than she likes sitting still to do art. But that’s fine with both Wren and I. As long as she’s happy, we’re happy.
Wren’s mom comes to collect Harper. I load up her overnight bag in the car, filled with all her favorite toys and blankets, and wave at them until they round the corner, then I head back in to get started on my wife’s favorite dinner. Once it’s bubbling away in the oven, I take one last peek at the delicate gold necklace I purchased for my wife before wrapping it up in the paper that Harper painted on earlier. I turn on the silly twinkle lights our daughter loves, and finally, everything is ready when Wren gets home from working on her gallery show.
As soon as she walks in the door and sees everything, I take her in my arms. “Happy anniversary, little bird. Are you surprised?”
I’m surprised when she bursts into tears, and they don’t exactly seem overjoyed. “I’m so sorry,” she says between sobs. “I can’t believe I’m crying like this. I love you so much. I’m just a little emotional today and I’m so tired that I’m practically dead on my feet.”
I kiss her, wiping away the tears to see a true smile shining on her pretty face. “Too tired for chicken parm?”
She breathes in deeply, her eyes fluttering shut. “Is that what smells so delicious? Pierce, you shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
Before we get to the kitchen, I slip my wrapped gift into her hands. Her eyes well up again when she sees the handmade wrapping paper, and I pull her close again, kissing her until she’s boneless and my cock is raging against her belly. “I don’t care that you forgot,” I whisper against her throat, enjoying the goosebumps I can always raise on her soft skin.
She jerks back and playfully thumps me on the chest. “What? I did not forget.” She steps away and slowly starts unbuttoning the front of her blouse, revealing a lacy black bra that barely contains her gorgeous tits. Her peachy nipples show through the lace, making my cock strain against my jeans.
“Wow,” I mutter, reaching for her.
