Not Your Bride Anymore

Claire's POV:   In our seventh year together, I decided to take the initiative and propose to my boyfriend.   But just as I was about to pull out the ring, my best friend slipped an arm around my shoulders, grinning, and challenged me to a bet.   "Let's bet on what Derek brought back from his business trip. Is it the brownies I love or your favorite shortbread cookies? If you lose, you two can't get married for 3 years."   My fingers tightened around the ring. I was about to refuse when Derek Walsh squeezed my palm and winked at me.   "Claire, don't you trust me?"   I hesitated, then chose to believe him and agreed to the bet.   But he pulled a box of brownies out of his bag.   My throat tightened as Megan Foster laughed and looped her arms around his neck.   "Come on, Derek! You made Claire lose again. Ten losses on the same bet? You really don't pay enough attention to her. As her best friend, I'll have to spend another 3 years making sure you're good enough for her."   She was right. Over the past 7 years, Megan had made this bet with me nine times. Every time I refused, Derek and Megan would say I was a bad sport.   The first time, I lost my place as Derek's pinned chat to her. The second time, I lost our matching rings to her...   ***** This was the 10th time.   Derek gave me an apologetic look.   "Claire, wait another 3 years. I promise I'll marry you then."   I said nothing and quietly slipped the ring back into my pocket.   What Derek didn't know was that when I'd insisted on being with him against all objections, I'd made a bet with my mother. I'd staked my future beyond the age of 25 on it.   If I didn't marry Derek at 25, I'd have to admit defeat and marry the man who'd been in love with me for 10 years.   *****   I lowered my head and opened the map on my phone to look up the bakery that sold the brownies. It was out in the suburbs, a 4-hour drive from downtown, where Derek had been on business.   The shortbread cookies I'd waited 7 years for were sold right downstairs from his hotel.   Derek noticed my expression and parted his lips as though he wanted to say something, but Megan reached over and pinched his side.   "Derek, that's just mean. You made Claire lose again. As punishment, you have to take us to eat out."   His waist was so sensitive that he never let me touch it. With Megan, though, he only smiled indulgently.   "All right, Your Highness. Whatever you say."   Megan dragged me over to the car. I opened the door and was about to get in when Derek stopped me.   "Claire, you lost the front passenger seat to Megan ages ago."   I stopped and gave a bitter smile. He was right. That was our third bet.   For years afterward, I'd had to sit in the back of Derek's car. Even when I got carsick, he only patted my back and sighed,   "Claire, you lost. I have to honor the bet."   I was about to draw my foot back when Megan shoved me into the back seat from behind.   "Don't be mad, Claire. We'll make him pay for a really expensive meal."   Derek chuckled and bent over to fasten her seat belt.   "Fine by me. Bring it on."   He did it so smoothly, as if he'd done it a million times.   I said nothing. My grip on my own seat belt tightened.   The car stopped outside a steakhouse. Megan loved places like this, but I couldn't stand a steak still oozing red juice.   I stood still and pressed my lips together.   Derek turned back and squeezed my palm.   "Claire, I know you don't like steak, but they have other things," he said gently. "This is the closest restaurant. You were busy picking me up at the airport, so you probably haven't eaten all day. I don't want your blood sugar dropping."   So he still remembered that I had low blood sugar.   My fingers tensed, and I reached for the ring in my pocket. I looked up at him.   "Derek, we've been together for 7 years. It was just a bet. We could at least get engaged."   His expression darkened. He sighed and was about to speak when Megan slapped him on the butt.   "At least you remembered I like this place and didn't take us to the diner next door."   Derek laughed.   "Of course I know what you like."   I clenched my hand so hard that my fingers turned white.   There was a diner right next door. All that talk had only been meant to placate me so he could indulge Megan.   He really had gone to a lot of trouble for her.   Before Megan pulled him away, he looked back.   "Claire, you have to keep your word. I swear I'll propose in 3 years, okay?"   He let go of my clenched hand.   'But I can't wait another 3 years, Derek. I don't want to wait anymore.'