Chapter Twenty-Three
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Maple
I do think about saying no. I mean, that’s kind of the whole point, isn’t it? That I would get to consider my options and pick which one I want most? In the end, though, there was only ever one answer that would satisfy me, so I don’t make him sit in his terror too long.
“Yes,” I answer simply once my deliberation is over.
Ivy’s breath hitches. “Yes?”
I nod. “Yes, Iverson Todric Swallow, I will marry you. Yes, I will be your wife, and come home to you, and love you. Forever. Yes, I choose you.”
Ivy melts, dropping his full weight on me with a sob. He utterly collapses, and I welcome him into my embrace gladly.
“Thank you,” he moans pitifully. “I love you. Thank you. I love you. I love you.” He carries on, vocabulary limited to five words that mean more than their definitions would imply.
He thanks me in the fae way, where he gives his soul to me with every gratitude.
He loves me in the divine way, where he pours out his heart for me with every proclamation.
He is mine, his words say.
I am his, I reply.
My hands move through his hair and down his back, running soothing circles wherever I can reach. I kiss the side of his head.
My husband. My love.
I should paint this. I… don’t know if I should paint this. It calls to me, this moment, but I am not the one flayed and raw. I am the one loved, and adored.
I want to paint this.
I’ll make it just for us, I decide. A piece of Ivy, and a piece of Maple, and a piece of our together, only for our eyes to see. Only for us to experience, ever.
A special moment.
A proposal.
A marriage.
A love.
A choice.