Lauren Layne

“Just that I figure at some point, some guy must have been able to make you smile. And I always wondered if it was the same guy that made you stop.”

Ben has it in his head that he’s mediocre.

I, on the other hand, know otherwise. He’s amazing.

I’ve heard him on work calls. Seen him working late into the night. The dude knows his stuff. He’s really, really good at his job, and, strangely, he’s the only one who doesn’t seem to know it.

Hers are the sort of eyes described as “startling,” whereas my high school boyfriend once described my eyes as “bluish?” I think the question mark at the end had been the most insulting part.

“Now, tell me who’s got you smiling at your phone all the time.”
“I do not smile at my phone.”
She takes a long sip and stares me down, and because I’ve never been able to weather that particular look, I relent.
“Okay,” I take a drink. “There’s sort of a guy. Who I haven’t met. And could be a pervert.”

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” Tom says, echoing his exact words from Gorby’s truck. “I sure as hell didn’t intend to stay in love with you. But I’ve learned . . . lately, that the best things in life aren’t the ones you plan. The best things in life aren’t easy. The best things are the ones you hold on to for all your worth, and if you’re stupid enough to let go, then you fight like hell to get back. There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that I’ll make mistakes. And that I don’t deserve you. But I also promise to never stop trying to make you smile, to make you happy. I promise that I’ll never give up. If you’ll only give me a chance.”

her presence seems to haunt this entire street.

her presence seems to haunt this entire street.

Picking up the engagement ring for my future wife.