Choosing Henley(58)

He sings the lyrics to the song as he walks toward me, and I grin. He’s always been cheesy like this. He grabs me by the hand, leading me out onto the dance floor, and wraps my arms around his neck as he slowly moves to the beat of the old classic. I can’t help but smile at the fact that he chose a Beatles song. We dance like that in the empty bar as the last lines of the song play through the speakers.

And feeling like this, I just can't go on anymore.

Please remember how I feel about you.

I could never really live without you.

So, come on back and see just what you mean to me.

I need you. I need you. I need you.

He dips me low to the ground, kissing me softly on the lips before whispering, “Happy New Year, Beatle.”

“What?” I ask him, chuckling. “It’s July.”

“Not tonight it isn’t.” He grins, pulling me back up against his chest. “Do you remember what I told you on New Year’s Eve?” he asks, and I nod. “I told you that, when the clock counts down a year from then, you’ll be mine for good.”

I smile up at him. “I don’t think I could forget that memory even if I wanted to, handsome.”

“Well, I couldn’t wait,” he says.

I furrow my brow in confusion as he slowly drops to one knee in front of me.

“Oh my god!” I gasp, covering my mouth with my hands.

“You are the love I never saw coming until you’d already stolen my heart. You are who I want to go to bed next to every night and wake up next to every morning. I want to spend every day for the rest of my life making you smile. I want our children to have your laugh and I want to love you until the day I die. Lennon Montgomery, will you marry me?”

I wrap my arms around his neck while he is still kneeling on the floor. “Yes. Yes. A million times yes!” I gasp through the tears streaming down my cheeks.

“I told you that you were going to love me,” he teases, sliding the perfect princess-cut diamond ring onto my finger.

“And I do,” I say, dropping to my knees in front of him. “I love you, Jami.”

“I love you too, Beatle.” He kisses my lips softly.

We make love that night on the floor of our favorite bar.

I know I said that fairytales are best suited for books and other people’s lives. That you have to believe in them for it to come true. But I’ll be damned... Call me a believer because it looks like this girl will be living her happily ever after.

The End.





“HURRY UP!” KYLE hisses, yanking my arm to pull me out of his silver Porsche, slamming the door behind me.


My boyfriend’s grip around my bicep tightens as he drags me farther down the dimly lit alley. I stumble in my heels as I try to keep up with his long stride. “You’re hurting me,” I mumble, glaring up at him while making a feeble attempt to release my arm from his hold.

He stops, turning to look at me, and a Cheshire cat grin spreads across his face. It’s scary as fuck. Then he leans down towards me, suffocating my small frame with his large one. “You like it when I hurt you,” he growls into my ear.

“Not like this.” I scowl at him, tugging my arm again before he releases it. I start to rub my hand over the stinging skin when he roughly grabs the back of my neck, dragging me forward.

“You love it, Betty. Don’t pretend like it doesn’t make you wet,” he purrs, cupping my sex over my dress.

“Don’t call me that!” I seethe, challenging him with my eyes.

He runs his hand up my side, painfully gripping my breast in his large hand. “You’re mine. I can call you whatever I want,” he declares.

“Kyle, you’re scaring me. Stop,” I state firmly, shoving his hard chest with my hands. He’s always been controlling, but something’s changed in these last few weeks. There have been more and more moments like this. Moments where he absolutely terrifies me.

His eyes soften and he releases the hold he has on my neck. “I was just playing around, doll.” He chuckles.

The haunting grin he was wearing is quickly replaced by his brilliant eligible-bachelor smile. The one that did me in, I recall, watching as he slowly morphs back into the man I met six months ago.

“Give me a kiss and let’s go inside. We’re going to be late.” He stands there expectantly as I stare at him. “Doll…” he trails off.

I feel my willpower dissipating rapidly as I look into his baby blues.

I give in—like I’ve done so many times this last month—and wrap my arms around his neck. After pecking him lightly on the lips, I level my green gaze at him. “Don’t touch me like that again, Kyle. I’m not some rag doll you can throw around. I’m your girlfriend. Are we clear?”