Chapter 5 #2
But we make it to the firepit, and he lets me down gently.
Not a second later, my arms go around his torso and I plaster myself to him. I have to go up on my toes and he has to bend down, but I put my head in the crook of his neck. His big arms envelope me. The warmth of his large body blankets me.
To my surprise, some tears appear behind my eyelids.
"Thank you, Leon." I speak against his chest. "That was amazing. Ten out of ten."
"Everything you thought it would be?"
"Everything except one thing. I thought you'd struggle more."
"Please." He starts rocking side to side with me tight in his arms.
"You know how many people would have done that for me?"
"No one but me."
I'm wearing my long hair loose. One of his hands goes up my back, hiding between the curtain of my brown strands, until he latches on the base of my neck.
"You wouldn't have let anyone else try," he says.
My skin lights up. I take a step back, just in case gooseflesh breaks out all over. Bodies have a way to respond to things even when you don't mean to.
Bear lets me go. "Let's bring in what we'll need tonight. We'll start the fire next."
We settle in. I force him to take the bigger bed.
I'm a cold sleeper and I throw a couple extra blankets on the sofa bed, insisting the smaller size will make it cozier for me.
We argue about it for a few minutes, but I finally win when I point out he did everything to plan the trip.
I can sleep on the sofa bed for one night.
After getting our toiletries in the bathroom and finding a couple sweaters for the cool spring evening, we get the fire going. We each sit on a chair and hold a cup of hot chocolate.
I let out a long sigh. "This is what I needed. It would have been a vacation for the history books, if it weren't for the change of plans."
"We can try and get away again before the schedule gets busy with preseason stuff."
"If we're really doing this bucket list thing," I ask, "then we probably need to do a lot of it in the next few months, right? Before the start of the season."
"Ideally, but we'll figure it out."
A few sparks take flight. Bright orange specks bursting against the dark surrounding us. The smoky smell is somehow timeless, like we could be living in time immemorial rather than the digital age.
I sip from my drink. "I like the idea of telling my dad we're doing this. It's making me feel hopeful in a way. Like it will help with my burnout as well as put a smile on my parents' faces."
"We could do a bit more. I know you love what you do even if it's draining your soul. I hate seeing you so emotionally exhausted by the end of the day, fighting with the part of you that's ready to move on."
I sigh. "I don't know what comes next, so how do I take the next step?"
"We could find a way for you to work less. That way you may finally have enough time to actually think about it. Maybe you should consider taking a long break, so you have the brain power to choose what comes next. You know I will keep donating even if you're not there."
I sip more of my chocolate and put a strand of hair back behind my ear. A breeze played with it, in a way that feels cozy like a caress. My eyes get lost on the lake in front of us, black except for the hundred little fragmented glints of moonlight.
"That sounds too good to be true," I mutter.
"Not too good. Just right," he argues.
He leans toward me, an intense look on his face. When we were still back in the car, I saw the signs. He was planning something and this must be it— a way to help me get my life back on track.
"When you decided to give up on romance," he continues, "you said you'd make this life incredible. That you didn't need that kind of love to be complete. You looked radiant for a while, Pen, and you deserve to feel that way again."
"You know I did more than give up." I frown. "I swore off it because I don't need it. I wasn't even sure I wanted it in the first place, but with work… My job is part of being in community. Helping the community. I can't give it up the same way."
"I'm not saying stop working altogether. I'm saying find a way to do it where it doesn't drain you. What did you call it? Moral injury?"
I nod. He's right. Every day on the way to work, dread takes hold of my heart. I know it's a bad sign.
Bear gets off his chair. He finds a place for his mug near the fire, and settles on his knees next to me. One of his large hands wraps around my leg. The other puts some hair behind my ear.
"No one knows me better than you." Bear keeps running his fingers through my hair.
"And I know you better than anyone. We both know you need a break.
A chance to find your shine again. When your dad says he wants to walk you down the aisle, that's what he really means, right?
To make sure you have a wonderful future. "
I take a deep breath. "I'm not doing as poorly as you think."
"But you're not doing as amazing as you deserve."
"Everyone deserves to have a wonderful life, Bear."
"Yes, but I can't make things better for every person I meet. So I choose to do it for you."
His fingers settle in my hair, except for his thumb. It makes arches on my cheek.
I nod. It shouldn't be hard to take his help. He's right— I need a break. Finding a way to make my life amazing should be an easy decision.
"Yes," I say. "I'll do it. We'll come up with a plan, and we'll do my bucket list. Maybe I'll find a way to cut back on work."
"Good." He kisses my temple. "Because I have something else I'd like us to do."
The ground is a mix of packed sand and large stones under my feet. Orange light flickers on everything, casting shadows that dance all over. It's hypnotizing, but something about his voice makes me stare up at him and hold.
He presses his lips like he's nervous. For a guy who doesn't seem to know what anxiety is, it's major. Whatever his plan was, it didn't end with him convincing me to take a leave from work.
"Bear?" I whisper.
I've never been one for premonitions but, the moment he leans close, I know our lives are about to change.
He's close enough that I think he's going to put his forehead to mine, but he doesn't. His breath caresses my face as he takes a deep breath. My lungs stop, as if I can't fathom stealing any air from him as he prepares to speak.
Then I freeze as I process his words.
"Marry me, Pen."