49. Then
FORTY-NIN E
then
Ella claimed that it was “common sense” to order wildly exotic takeout the night before Thanksgiving. Sort of as an antidote to all of the traditional American fare to follow.
She chose Chinese, and I teased her mercilessly about her concept of “exotic” cuisine. We had a picnic on my floor as Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving special played in the background. I didn’t even mind it. Watching genuine delight sparkle in her eyes was well worth any second-hand embarrassment.
While she flipped her focus between dumplings and television, I spent my meal trying to swallow the distinct sense that I fucked up irrevocably. I knew it took a lot of courage for her to confess her love to me because I’d yet to summon that sort of bravery.
She trusted me, and I left her hanging . Why didn’t I just tell her weeks ago? It seemed so stupid, now, as I watched the screen bathe her sweet features in flashes of light.
Of course I loved her. My whole world began and ended with her. Every other fucking thing—my degree, the business, my family’s reputation, the money—could go to hell for all I cared. The only one I truly needed was Ella.
I loved her so much that I couldn’t imagine living without her. I couldn’t recall what my life even looked like before her. And every time I tried, I wanted to recoil from the memories.
I remembered a lot of boredom. Cynicism. Dread.
But Ella changed all of that the day I saw her knitting on that subway. She made me smile and laugh. She brought magic and color and joy to my life. I never wanted to go back.
Now, it was too late to tell her how I felt. I had to wait and make it as special as possible. I couldn’t disappoint her again by blowing it off and blurting out a declaration that was less than she deserved.
She deserved everything.
Possibilities whirled through my mind while we got ready for bed and settled under the covers.
I could get another hotel suite. Though, I’ve already done that.
Maybe a vacation somewhere… but then I have to wait until after the holidays, which is another five weeks. That’s a long time.
Clichés like sunset at the top of the Empire State Building or a walk in the gardens felt too trite. And Ella didn’t care about flashy restaurants or shopping or expensive baubles.
Although…
She truly loved the necklace I got her. She hadn’t removed it since the day I put it around her neck. I suspected it had nothing to do with the piece’s cost but more to do with how I just had to have it .
I still didn’t really understand why it jumped out at me. I only knew that that particular necklace struck me as a representation of us—the one circle studded in metal screws, the other brilliant with its row of shimmering diamonds. I was plain and cool and quiet; Ella was precious and delicate. I tried to hold everything together, and she glittered effortlessly, throwing rainbows wherever the light touched her.
I drifted toward sleep with my girl tucked into the crook of my arm, imagining what other pieces I might buy for her.
Maybe a matching bracelet, engraved. I can etch “I love you” right into it. Then, she’ll always have it right up her sleeve.
Or, maybe I’ll engrave it into a ring.
Under Ella’s cheek, my heart broke into a sprint. My eyes snapped open, staring up at the dark ceiling overhead.
God Almighty . A ring? Where the fuck did that thought come from?
I looked down at the woman in my arms; her beautiful face relaxed in sleep.
Who are you kidding? some steady voice inside of me replied. You know this is it .
And I did. I knew . So completely that I found it hard to believe.
We’d only known each other for three months. She still surprised me. Often. And sometimes, I caught her looking at me like she couldn’t begin to guess what I’d do next. But, for all we still needed to learn, we understood each other on an intimate level, unlike anything I even dreamed possible.
All of the changes in my life affected her, too. I saw the way she worried about me, how she scrambled to try to help with business issues beyond her realm of experience, how incredibly patient and flexible she had to be with all the new demands on my time.
Making her my fiancée would afford her the respect she deserved for being my partner. Moreover, it would signal to the rest of Manhattan how serious I was about our relationship.
Oddly, the concept of never touching another woman again didn’t faze me as much as I expected it to. I didn’t even notice other women anymore, for the most part. Not sexually, anyway. They were just… there. I found I had trouble even recalling their facial features a few seconds after I left them.
I smoothed Ellie’s silky blonde hair back from her face, revealing all of her unforgettable qualities. The sweet slope of her button nose, the way her eyebrows tapered off slightly too soon, the cinnamon flecks dusting her skin. It was the only face I ever wanted next to me in bed.
Because she’s the One .