“What?” I shrieked. I didn’t remember telling him about my infertility issues and that is something I most certainly would remember.
“Before you let me have that sweet snatch on my bike,” he said with a sly grin.
“Aaron,” I chastised. “Focus.”
“You said you couldn’t get pregnant and didn’t want to talk about it,” he repeated. “Is that what’s got you all worked up?”
“Of course, it is. You’d be giving up your chance to have kids if you married me. I can’t take that away from you.”
He reached for me and pulled me into his arms. “Macy, if you want kids, we can explore other options. I don’t know what all they can do, but we can talk to Patch. I don’t want to have a family of any kind with anyone other than you.”
“My doctor said I had some kind of hormonal imbalance that was preventing me from getting pregnant. At the time, I was already so depressed and disappointed with my life that I didn’t follow up on it like I should have.”
“It’s okay, baby. You can follow up on it now, and we’ll go from there.”
Tears were trickling down my cheeks and starting to make a wet spot on his shirt. “Are you sure?”
“Never been surer about anything in my life, Mace.” After a few moments of silence, he asked, “Do I need to ask you again?”
“Yes, please,” I said and wiped my face on his shirt.
He chuckled and stepped back to cup my cheeks in his hands again. “Marry me, Macy.”
Once again, it was more of a statement than a question. “Okay,” I breathed.
“Okay?”
“Yes, Aaron, I’ll marry you.”
* * *
One Month Later
Once again,I found myself packing up my belongings, though this time was a lot less painful than the last.
Aaron picked up a stack of boxes and looked around. “Are these the last ones?”
I smiled and nodded. “Yes, that’s it.”
“Well, let’s go, woman. We’ve got a party to get to,” he said jovially.
I closed the door to the apartment Ember had so graciously allowed me to stay in while I got my life back in order and followed him out to his truck.
“You want to drop these off at the house first or go to the clubhouse from here?” he asked.
“House first. I want to change clothes before we go to the party,” I explained.
After my ex-husband was investigated and ultimately arrested for numerous financial crimes, he spilled his guts to the investigators in an attempt to reduce his charges. Surprisingly, he never tried to implicate me in his wrongdoings. He did, however, name my father, who was also investigated and arrested. Both were deemed flight risks and denied bail, which tickled me to no end.
After the court hearings, I decided to sell Beddingfield Holdings, LLC. I was starting over, and I didn’t want anything from my old life to be a part of my new life. I put the money I made from the sale into a savings account and planned to continue working at the farm with Ember.
“I’ll unload the boxes while you get changed. Better make it quick, though. We’re expected to be there in twenty minutes,” Aaron said, pulling me from my thoughts.
I smiled, “I’ll just be a minute.”
We were a few minutes late to the party, but it wasn’t like they could start without us; after all, it was technically our wedding reception. When we walked into the clubhouse, I had been Mrs. Aaron Marshall for a little over five hours, and I couldn’t have been happier.
* * *