Chapter 5 #2
“Hey, protecting what’s mine does not mean I’m not romantic,” I tell her with mock outrage. She puts her hands up in surrender.
“Whatever you say, Casanova. I’m not here to judge, I have zero desire to get married either.”
“See? You get me.” She cracks a smile and bumps my shoulder before moving slightly away. I try not to focus on how it feels like a loss. I want to keep joking around with her and hear her talk, so I hand her the darts, letting our hands brush again.
“You’re up! Go kick my ass,” I tell her.
She salutes me with a full out laugh before stepping up to the line.
Her gorgeous hair is in loose waves tonight, and it slithers around her bare shoulders like a satin red sheet, shining brightly under the overhead lighting as she takes her turn.
She’s in that adorable blue dress that she has to wear at the diner, and I’ve never seen someone make white sneakers look so good.
I hear the unmistakable three thumps of her darts hitting the board, and, yep.
She is still killing me. I need to rally in my next turn.
Celeste’s face is the definition of looking like the cat who got the cream when she hands me the darts.
It’s sexy as hell, and I have to force myself to look away in order to focus as I step up to the line.
Celeste’s voice stops me just as I’m about to throw.
“You opened up about your mom and dad to me, so I want to be open with you about why I feel the need to throw pointy things tonight,” she says quietly.
“I’m having a medical issue, so that’s why I seem extra, I don’t know, off tonight or whatever,” she goes on, the words coming out in a rush, as if she’s embarrassed.
I go still, worried that it’s serious, but I don’t ask.
Turning back toward her, I keep my face placid and just nod encouragement for her to go on if she wants.
“It’s endometriosis,” she explains. “It flared up when I was incarcerated because of the stress, so it’s causing me a lot of pain. That’s all. Some days it’s not so bad, like today, and other days it feels like my abdomen is taking a pummeling from a professional boxer.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief that it’s not life threatening.
“I know a little about it. My cousin Diana has it, she had to get laparoscopic surgery a couple of years ago because of it. Will you need surgery?”
She grimaces.
“If it keeps up like this or gets worse, probably. I’m hoping against hope that pain meds and the new hormones she prescribed will help for now.
Just getting the tests and properly examined today is going to hurt my wallet, I don’t have health insurance at the moment.
I lost access to it in prison, and I can’t afford it right now. ”
“Our healthcare system really does completely suck,” I lament.
“Completely,” she agrees. “I just hate that this is now a thing on top of everything else I want and need to do to get my life back on track.”
“What else is on your want and need to do list?” I ask curiously.
She tips her head back against the wall, like just thinking of the list weighs too much on her mind to hold it up.
The overhead lighting limns her angular jaw and high cheekbones in sharp relief, making her look like a Renaissance sculpture.
I’m so entranced that I almost miss what she’s saying when she starts talking.
“Find a place to live that doesn’t intrude on the new lovebirds, as you already know.
Save up enough money to be stable and have a safety net.
I don’t want to be at the diner forever, starting a non-profit that will benefit women like me who are going back into society after being incarcerated is my dream.
It could provide mental health services, career services, clothing drives, food drives, everything someone could need to make integrating back easier.
That will take a ton of networking, time, and money.
I never went to college, but I’ve always liked learning and reading.
Taking business and psychology classes would be pretty awesome,” she finishes with a helpless shrug.
“That is a fine fucking list,” I declare, and she gives me her first true, radiant smile of the night.
I’ve never seen her eyes so warm when she looks at me, my insides absorbing that warmth to my very bones.
My heart does that uncomfortable flipping again.
I’m wondering if I’m having a health issue too, I should probably see a cardiologist.
“Maybe I’m delusional and it’s too much, but a gal can try, right?” She says it in an off-hand, self-deprecating way, and I truly hate that she seems to doubt herself so much.
“I know you’ll make it happen, Celeste,” I tell her firmly.
She should have all of that and more if she wants.
An idea springs into my head, a lightning flash of inspiration.
The pieces of a plan are slowly stitching together like my favorite old patchwork quilt that my abuela made for me.
It’s insane, but if we pull it off we can both help each other to get what we want.
I just hope she doesn’t go running for the hills the minute I suggest it, although I wouldn’t blame her.
“Why do you look like you’re thinking something diabolical right now?” she asks warily.
“Because I have an idea that will benefit us both,” I say as I lean in conspiratorially. Along with the floral, spiced scent from her perfume, she smells a little like maple syrup and bacon from the diner, and I have to stop myself from burrowing my nose into her hair for another whiff.
“What idea?” She leans in a little closer too, her face completely bemused.
I raise my eyebrows expectantly, knowing she’s smart enough to catch up. It doesn’t take long for me to watch in real time as realization dawns all over her expressive, beautiful face. Her eyes widen comically, and her mouth goes slack.
“You cannot be serious!” she cries incredulously.
“I promise I’m one hundred percent serious,” I say with all of the conviction I have. Taking her hand and lifting it to my mouth in the barest of kisses across her knuckles, I look right into those stormy grey eyes and ask a question that I never dreamt would ever come from my mouth.
“Will you please marry me, Celeste?”