Free Happier Than She's Ever Been... by Menna van Praag

Chocolate and have it support and inspire them all. But I don’t want to be rich and famous. I don’t want to be sucked into the world of Comparison, Control and Crazy –’
    â€˜Eh?’ Ben frowned, wondering what on earth she was talking about and how much he’d missed while thinking about his proposal.
    â€˜Oh, it’s just something Lily said…’ May trailed off. ‘Anyway, I love the life I have – with you, running the bookshop, hopefully helping the women who come to me, knowing what’s real and what matters. I don’t think I could handle fame and fortune anyway. Apparently it’s like heroin: you get a stab of it and you’re sucked into the unreality of a world where all that matters is success, appearances, being better and more brilliant than everyone else in the room.’ May thought back to the days when she sat on her sofa eating boxes of cookies and tubs of ice cream. ‘And, given how I used to be with chocolate, I don’t think I’d stand much of a chance with heroin. Or cocaine…’
    Ben gripped the little ring box, preparing himself, thinking this might be the perfect time. He’d just wait for her to finish.
    â€˜Maybe some people can handle it without losing their hearts and their heads, but I doubt I could. I mean, we witnessed that last month, right, what I’m like when I lose myself in something.’ May smiled. ‘In fact you’d better watch out with me; I think I have a bit of an addictive personality. You should have seen me back in England when I was miserable and eating every cookie, croissant and chocolate cake in sight…’
    Ben cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak. But before he could say anything, May glanced up to see that they’d reached the restaurant.
    â€˜Hey, wonderful,’ she said, grinning. ‘We’re here, I’m so hungry I could easily eat a whole chocolate cake right now.’

    They fell through the doorway, laughing and stuffed full of food.
    â€˜I never said I had fat toes,’ May objected, giggling. ‘You’re making it up.’
    â€˜Oh, yes, you did. I remember you wiggling your toes as you said it.’
    â€˜Well, since the show was live, it’s my word against yours,’ May said triumphantly, ‘and I choose to believe mine.’
    â€˜Oh, didn’t I tell you? I recorded it.’ Ben rushed into the living room to the television. ‘So now we’ll know the truth.’
    May ran after him and they both collapsed onto the sofa. She clutched her stomach, giggling. ‘I ate far, far too much food. If I laugh again I think I’m gonna be sick.’
    â€˜Not on my red leather couch you’re not,’ Ben said. ‘Hey, May, there’s something I wanna ask you.’
    â€˜Okay.’ May sat up a little, not for a moment suspecting what it was going to be. ‘I’m listening.’ Then her eye caught the flashing red light on the answer phone. ‘Oh my goodness, we’ve got sixty-three messages!’
    â€˜What?’ Ben sat up and peered at it. ‘Who on earth…?’
    â€˜Maybe it’s just from friends who saw me on TV today,’ May sighed a little. ‘Oh my goodness, how completely and utterly mortifying.’ Though secretly she was really rather touched. ‘Hey, maybe Faith called, which reminds me I must call her. But, sorry, what was it you wanted to say?’
    â€˜It can wait a sec. Let’s listen to these first.’ Ben pressed the playback button. And for the next ten minutes they heard messages from the assistants of every book agent, newspaper editor and TV producer in San Francisco and beyond. They’d all seen, or at least heard about, the show and they wanted to talk. They loved the book title. They loved May’s story. And, of course, they loved May. After every single message had played, Ben and May turned to each