Chapter 34 #2
I can only stare at him, stunned. Manage his expectations.
The very notion that he’d take me with those conditions again.
The idea that he’d take me with any conditions at all is astounding.
That I’d made him think that my love, when it came, would be with conditions and rules: arrangements.
I need to show him that I’m changed, that I’m ready to give him everything he wants and needs.
I could try with words, but I think I need something more than that.
Something that shows him how important he is.
The idea, when it comes, almost takes my breath away.
There are no second thoughts whatsoever.
It feels as completely right this time as it did the first time.
In fact, more so, because I’m two decades older and I know myself far better than I did at nineteen.
He’s watching me with a measure of apprehension that only makes me more certain.
I climb out of bed, kissing the top of his curled hair as I do, and pull on a pair of shorts.
“Where are you going?” he asks, sitting up.
I’m searching the room for something that will work when my eyes settle on the desk by the window, specifically on the hotel notepad and pen by the telephone.
I tear off the top sheet of the notepad and rip that in half, rolling it, folding it, and fashioning it into a crude circle. Then I turn to him.
“Asher Lisowski Fox,” I begin. “From the moment I met you, I’ve been enthralled.
You challenged everything I thought I knew about myself and the world at a time when I was lonely, lost, and desperate for something, someone, to make me feel alive again.
You did that, darling. Every second we were together revived me.
The person you are, the man you are, the artist you are.
These last two years working on myself without you were necessary, but they were not fun.
” I laugh a little and go towards the bed.
He looks completely bewildered, eyes and mouth wide with surprise and uncertainty.
“But knowing you were out there in the world, that the world still had you in it, made it far easier to bear.
Christ, I’m not any better at this than I was the first time, it turns out, but I’m as certain about it now as I was then. I love you, Asher. I will love you forever. And I want you in my life, by my side, in all the ways that matter.
I want the world to know that you’re mine and that I’m yours.” Belatedly, I go to one knee and hold out the paper ring to him. “Darling, will you marry me?”
He’s entirely still. I’m not even sure his chest is moving. When it’s been close to a minute without a word, I can’t take it anymore.
“Asher?”
“I’m processing.”
“Alright. Should I stay down here?”
“Yeah, just… give me a second.”
“Of course.”
After a moment, he says, “Can I see the ring?” I hold it out to him, embarrassed. “You can get up now.”
“There will be a proper one,” I promise as he studies it. “Gold or silver or whatever you want it to be… this is just…”
“It’s perfect,” he says, holding it delicately between his small but elegant fingers. His head is down, so I can’t see his eyes, but his voice sounds thick with emotion. “Can you put it on me?”
“Does that mean it’s a yes?” He lifts his head and gives me a long look, tears shimmering in his eyes. Smiling, I take it from him and slide it onto his ring finger. He stares at it then wipes his nose, which is adorably red, with his other hand.
“Can you ask me again? I feel like I sort of ruined that. Also, don’t say Asher Lisowski Fox.
That kinda means Asher Fox Fox. Lisowski comes from the Polish word for fox.
I thought it was really clever when I came up with it but it doesn’t work altogether like that.
Sorry, never mind, I’m ruining it again. Fuck.”
I grin. “You didn’t ruin anything, sweetheart. But I think I will ask you again because I’d very much like to hear you say yes.” I take his hand this time, and he lifts his sparkling blue eyes, red-rimmed, to mine. “Asher, darling, will you marry me?”
“Yeah. Yes. I will.” He gives me a small, unbearably shy smile and throws his arms around me, squeezing me tight. “Fuck, I love you so much. I’m so happy.”
I pull him onto my lap and kiss him long and soft. “I always want you to be happy, Asher. I’ll do everything to make that happen, every day for the rest of my life.”
“Are you happy?”
I beam at him. “Very.”
He nods, happily. Then, like he’s unsure about the words he’s about to say, he takes a deep breath before he speaks: “I just want to say that it’s okay to still love Stella.
And you can talk about her whenever you want; you never need to worry about that with me.
And if you still want to wear her ring even after we get married, I’m cool with that, too.
I don’t expect you to just stop loving her because you love me. I just… I really wanted to say that.”
A small sob ripples up from my chest as I lean my head on his.
“Thank you for saying that, sweetheart.” He tightens his arms around me and moves to rest his head on my shoulder, breaths slowing, syncing.
Happiness and contentment swell in my chest, his weight a perfect counterbalance against my body, settling everything in me.
There’s always been an undeniable rightness to Asher that I haven’t been able to ignore.
Where I’d run and hid from a great many things in the years since Stella died, he’d been impossible to elude, his bold abundance of love slowly coaxing me back to the living.
I know a life with him by my side will be bright and extraordinary, rebellious and unique, and never dull.
I’m excited to live this second life with him; life and all its infinite possibilities excite me again.
“Have you ever wanted to live in Scotland?” I ask him.
He makes a thoughtful noise. “How cold is it there?”
“Not as cold as the Antarctic.”
“Oh, well, count me in then.” I chuckle as he puts a little pressure on my chest, pushing me backward on the bed so he can straddle me. “Do you want to live in Scotland?”
“I already do.”
His eyes go wide.
“I’m building a house and bothy there, by Loch Earn. It’s about an hour from Edinburgh. I actually lecture at the university a few days a week: the politics of law.”
He takes all this in. “You’re a professor?”
“A few days a week, yes.”
“Hot.”
I laugh, and he grins. Then he shrugs. “I’ll live wherever you are, I don’t care.”
“I promise you’ll love it—it’s very pretty there. The views are spectacular.”
“Well, you know I am all about pretty spectacular views.” He smirks.
“Speaking of which… can you please take these back off. I’m not done with your pretty spectacular dick yet.
” He tugs on the waistband of my shorts, and I lift my hips to let him pull them back off.
Then he links his ringed finger with mine, moves down my body, and does something pretty spectacular all of his own.