46
Sara
I wake up to the mouthwatering smell of eggs and bacon, mixed with some kind of baked goods. Pancakes? Biscuits, maybe?
Did I fall asleep at my parents’ house again?
Prying open my heavy eyelids, I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling.
My apartment’s plain white ceiling.
Instantly, the memories rush in, and I sit up with a gasp, throwing off my blanket.
Was last night real? Is Peter here?
A flash of something bright catches my attention, and I glance down at my left hand, where a giant diamond is sparkling in the barely-there sunlight seeping through the lowered blinds.
Holy s**t. It is real.
Peter is here.
I’m officially engaged to him.
Throwing on a robe, I run to the kitchen, where I not only smell but hear the sizzle of frying bacon.
The sight that greet
