Chapter 32 Dates and Drawings #2
“I love you, Berrie,” he said, his voice trembling but sure. “More than anything. More than anyone. I’m done wasting time and done holding back.”
He swallowed, eyes shining.
“I am yours, your man and your partner, yours in every way that truly matters. Now I’m asking you to be mine, my woman, my home, my forever.”
His voice broke, just slightly.
“I want to shout it to the whole world. I want everyone to know that the love of my life is my wife.”
He held out the ring, hands shaking.
“Will you marry me?”
I froze, tears filling my eyes; in my mind I was screaming yes, but no sound would come out.
Suddenly, my mind drifted over the past year that we’d been together. After few months, we finally told everyone we were dating again, and unsurprisingly, no one seemed shocked.
We moved in together soon after. It’s been…
better than I ever let myself imagine. We still carry our demons, still trip over old fears, but now we face them side by side instead of alone.
The couple’s counselling has helped more than either of us expected.
We have difficult conversations, moments of honest silence, and we’re learning to listen without flinching.
Some days my insecurities resurface. Some days he looks at me like he can’t quite believe I chose him again, like he’s still afraid he’ll wake up and find me gone. When that happens, we don’t shut down. We talk. We name the fear and we talk about it.
But the dates, those have been my favorite part.
Arlo started planning them with ridiculous seriousness, calling the series Berrie Loves, like it was a sacred project. Each one was tailored to me.
There was the bookstore date, where he handed me a small budget and told me to buy anything I wanted.
The picnic by the sea, complete with my favorite food, and a blanket he swore was “strategically chosen for optimal cuddling.”
The cooking night, where he recreated dishes from my childhood slightly imperfect, completely heartfelt and asked me to teach him the ones he got wrong.
A quiet museum date where he pretended not to understand half the art just to make me laugh, then admitted which piece reminded him of me.
And the simple ones, too: sunset walks, late-night drives with no destination, staying in to watch movies I’d already seen a hundred times because he loved watching my reactions more than the screen.
From somewhere in the distance, faint but not quiet enough, I heard whispers that pulled me back into the present.
''Okay, so… is she gonna say yes, or are we just gonna marinate in rom-com suspense forever?'' I could Levi whispering. ''I’m not rushing a life-changing decision or anything, but we’ve been holding our breath so long I’m pretty sure my lungs filed for divorce.''
A softer voice hissed from the bushes, “Levi, shut it.”
''I’m just saying,'' he barreled on in a fake whisper that carried like a foghorn, ''the man poured his actual soul out. There was a letter—handwritten, dramatic tears, the works. We’re way past ‘maybe’ territory. This is peak rom-drama; someone cue the fireworks or I’m starting my own betting pool. ''
Another muffled snort, Asa cracking. ''Babe, give her a sec. She’s crying happy tears.''
''Yeah, well, he’s crying too,'' Levi shot back, zero chill. ''This is emotionally inefficient. Like, peak rom-com montage vibes, but without the payoff? Criminal.''
Arlo let out a breathy laugh despite himself, his eyes locked on mine, steady as ever. ''Ignore the peanut gallery,'' he murmured soft, just for me. ''Take all the time you need, Berrie.''
And that did it; it shattered me wide open. I laughed through my tears, nodding wildly before my voice caught up. ''Yes,'' I whispered, then louder, ''Yes, Arlo! I’ll marry you!''
The bushes erupted like a bad fireworks show, a barely contained explosion of whoops and chaos.
“I KNEW IT!” Levi stage-whisper-screamed, launching himself out like a jack-in-the-box on espresso, complete with jazz hands. “TOLD YOU, ASA! Emotional efficiency: RESTORED. Pay up, loser! I called it at tear number three.”
“We didn’t have any bets, Levi. Jeez.”
Suddenly, Arlo lifted me off the ground, hugging me so tight I couldn’t breathe, kissing me deeply like he was trying to pour every feeling he had into that single moment.
Then arms were everywhere—everyone crowding in, laughing, crying, crushing me with love.
I was smiling and sobbing at the same time, a complete, beautiful mess.
I choked on a sob when I saw Mrs. Ellery standing there too. She cupped my face, kissed both my cheeks, her eyes shining with tears, and whispered, “You go and be happy, love.
I turned, and there was Declan too. ''You came!'' I gasped, disbelief and joy colliding.
''I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, sweetie,'' he said, pulling me into a warm hug.
When the noise finally softened, I looked down at the ring.
A deep ruby, glowing warmly, surrounded by twelve tiny diamonds. My breath caught. I lifted my eyes to Arlo. He was already smiling, like he’d been waiting for me to notice.
March leaned in, studying my hand. "It's beautiful," she whispered. "Red because… berries are red?"
"Yeah," Levi answered immediately. "Why else?"
I laughed through my tears.
"But the twelve diamonds," Arlo murmured quietly, in my ears, brushing his thumb over my knuckles, "that's just our secret."
I closed my eyes as he pulled me into his arms, resting my head against his chest, letting the moment settle into my bones, trying to hold on to it before it slipped into memory.
They led us deeper into the park, down a path I hadn't noticed before. The trees opened into a small clearing where everything was already waiting: a long blanket spread out, low tables, warm food wrapped in foil, fairy lights strung between branches like fallen stars.
Arlo's hand slipped gently to my belly, cradling it with a tenderness that undid me.
"Did you tell anyone?" he asked softly.
"Not yet," I whispered.
A slow, satisfied smile curved his lips. "Good." He hesitated, then asked quietly, "Did you find out the gender?"
"Yes," I smiled.
He swallowed. "And?"
"Don't you want to have a gender party?"
He shook his head softly. "No need. I can't think of a more perfect moment."
"Okay," I said, my voice trembling with a smile. "It's a boy."
The breath left him all at once. He pulled me into his arms so suddenly it startled me, his grip tight, protective, real. I felt his shoulders shake.
"Hey," I whispered, brushing my hand through his hair. "Are you okay?"
He nodded against me, voice breaking. "Yeah. I just—" He took a breath. "I promise I'll be the father mine never was. I'll choose him and I'll choose you, every day. I'll tell him how I fell in love with his mother and how I spent my life trying to be worthy of you."
I cupped his face, steady, certain. "You already are, babe.
" I smiled through tears. "and I'll tell him how deeply he was loved before he even arrived Arlo.
How, for a while, we lost our way, but then his father stepped up.
How he healed. How he let me heal in my own time.
How he saved my life without ever trying to own it. "
I pressed my forehead to his.
"I'll tell him his dad never stopped showing up, never stopped loving me, and that I hope—no, that I know he'll grow up to be a good man, like his father."
His kiss lingered deep, washing away the years of hurt. "I love you, Berrie babe. My heart's truth.''
"I know," I breathed, our tears mingling. In that endless moment, every scar became a story worth keeping.
“Did you decide what to do about your family?” he asked.
I smiled. “Yeah.'' After they tried to reach me, I sent one final text… then I blocked them all. I glanced at our friends, at Arlo, at the life growing inside me. “I already have my family.”
He kissed me softly, then threaded his fingers through mine, and together we followed our friends toward the celebration.
Because my name is February.
The shortest month. The coldest one. The one that teaches you endurance before it gives you light.
I am the month of aching bones and frozen mornings, of holding on when everything feels stripped bare. I am the season where things look dead but are only resting, gathering strength underground.
I have known pain. I have broken. I have learned what it means to survive the dark without knowing if spring would ever come.
But February is also a promise of the slow, quiet work of rebuilding. It is the beauty of standing back up, steady and unafraid, when the world was certain you would remain on your knees.
I looked down at the ring, at everything it carried and promised, at the symbols etched into it like a quiet language only my heart could fully understand. Around me, I heard the laughter of my newly found family that I never thought I would have.
I felt the lips of my man against mine, gentle and certain, anchoring me to the moment, and in that breathless second, I allowed myself to see the future. I could see a future where laughter outlived fear, where wounds softened into scars, and where I was no longer surviving, but living.
Deep inside, I felt little Berrie bubbling up with giggles and wild laughter. She was safe at last, wrapped in a love that finally reached her. I shut my eyes, smiled, and poured every bit of warmth I held right into her heart, whispering without words that she could let go now.
She was finally loved and chosen. She was finally home.
Thank you for walking this journey with me through February.