Captive Films: Season One

“Not yet,” he says, kissing my neck. “I’m not done with memory lane. Remember when you tutored me in French—back when you were still trying to resist my charm—and I told you I was going to ask you to marry me here someday? And, later, how I asked you to go to Winter Formal with me by having the guys in the dorm build that lame Eiffel Tower replica?”


“It wasn’t lame. It was so romantic. I’ll remember the way you looked that day for the rest of my life. It was one of those take my breath away moments.”

He whispers in my ear. “I hope this is another one of those moments.”

“What do you mean?”

I glance over my shoulder, not seeing him.

I turn around.

And.

Ohmigawd!

He’s. Down. On. One. Knee.

He takes my hand.

I hold my breath, trying to capture every feeling, every single thing about this moment. The smells of Paris, the sunset, Aiden’s sexy voice, the way my hand still feels like it belongs in his forever. He makes me feel like anything and everything is possible.

“You and I are like a promise,” he says. “A wish. Proof that fate and luck bring people together. Proof of love at first sight. Proof that true love will survive. I promise you a life that’s better than anything you’ve ever scripted. So, what do you say, Boots? Wanna get hitched?”

“Hitched?”

“Yeah. Get it: boots, hitched?”

I laugh. “You’re silly.”

“And you’re beautiful. Seriously, will you marry me?”

“Yes, I will.”

When he stands up, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him.

“That was easier than I thought,” he says, an adorable smile playing on his face. “Dallas said I’d need the ring to get you to commit to planning a wedding.”

“Is there a ring?”

“Is there a ring? Of course, there’s a ring. Wanna see it?”

“Hell yeah.”

He pulls a velvet box out of his jacket pocket and opens the lid.

The ring is ablaze with color.

A large round canary diamond set into a thick band, baguette stones ringing the band in rows, starting with clear brilliant diamonds then moving across the band in graduating shades of light yellows and pinks.

“It looks like a sunset!” I gasp.

“That’s by design.” He slides the vintage four-leaf clover ring off my finger and replaces it with the engagement ring.

I admire it for a moment.

“Turn your hand over and look at the back.”

I flip my hand around. The back is also ringed with stones, graduating to brighter shades of oranges, hot pinks, and reds.

And one single emerald. I know exactly what the emerald means. When we were in St. Croix over Thanksgiving break of my junior year, we saw the green flash together. I had thought I’d seen the flash at sunset before, but I was wrong. And I didn’t know I hadn’t seen it until I saw the real thing.

It was like our love. I thought I had been in love with other boys, but I didn’t know it wasn’t real until I had experienced the real thing. When my ordeal with the stalker was over, I told Aiden he was my green flash. My true love.

“You’re my green flash too,” he says, giving me another kiss. “Always. Only. Ever yours.”

“Um . . .” I say.

“Um?”

“Yeah, we might need a rewrite on that part.”

“What part?”

“The only part.”

“You don’t want only me?”

“It’s not going to be just us anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m pregnant, Aiden.”

“How?”

I laugh at him. “Um, I think you know how.”

He lowers his voice. “But you're on the pill.”

“Remember about six months ago when you said I should go off it and see what happens?”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want the pressure of trying. I was hoping it would just happen. Honestly, I was starting to worry that I couldn’t get pregnant.”

“You shouldn’t have worried,” he says, holding up my palm, reminding me of what a palm reader predicted so long ago. “You know we’re having four kids. It’s fate.”

“Maybe sorta like fate,” I add with a laugh, mimicking what he said years ago. I’ll never forget tutoring him in the library. After he told me he would ask me to marry him at the top of the Eiffel Tower at sunset, I laughed and said, Why would I marry you? I don’t even like you. Then he asked me what the French word for fate was. When I told him it was sort, he gave me that cocky grin of his and said, Exactly, we’re sorta like fate. That line was used in the theme song for the movie. Damian wrote the song ‘Sorta Like Fate’ and his band, Twisted Dreams, recorded it. It might just be my favorite song ever.

Aiden holds my hands tightly and looks into my soul. “Are you really pregnant?”

“Only a few weeks, but, yes, I took a test this morning and it was positive.”

He has the same shocked look as he did when I kicked the soccer ball past him.

Then a smile starts to form, the corners of his mouth turning upward.

Which turns into the full-wattage powerful god-like smile that still makes me swoon.

“Come on, beautiful. Let’s get going so we can tell everyone the good news.”

As we drive to the fashion show, the moon slides into view.

I make another wish on it.

That our baby gets their daddy’s smile.





Thursday, September 25th

Movie Premiere - Los Angeles

RILEY