A short while later they were sitting on the loveseat, wrapped in each other’s arms. They found themselves talking about anything and everything. Just like they used to do during their late night phone calls.
“After I told you we should back off, I would sit in the den waiting for the phone to ring,” Ethan told her.
“And when it didn’t I would pick it up and dial your number before hanging up and going to bed.”
“I cried myself to sleep many nights, wishing my phone would ring just once,” she whispered.
“I’m so sorry, Princess. How much longer until your nineteenth birthday? Ten months right?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, snuggling into his arms. “Why?”
“In many of those conversations we used to have, I promised you that I would ask you to marry me when we were eighteen. That means I only have ten months left to make good on it.”
There was no response from Charli so Ethan looked down at her. She was asleep, breathing peacefully
against his chest. It was blowing his mind how he went from not wanting a relationship to thinking of asking her to marry him in a day’s time. He had promised her and now there was no way he could imagine not following through. The day she muttered ‘goodbye Ethan, I love you,’ as she hung up the phone was the day he knew she would always be a part of him – no matter how much he told himself differently. Fate. The word everyone was tossing at him had stuck. Charlotte Goldstein was his fate.