Chapter 7
Bear
As recently as this morning, I didn't think I'd be asking my best friend to marry me. Maybe that's why my heart is beating faster than when the Strike won the championship nearly two months ago.
It's either that, or it's panic that she will reject me and create some sort of rift between us.
For a long, long time, I've known there's no room for anything romantic between us.
That it would hurt us if I pretended there could be, especially when I know how she feels about all this love and wedding stuff.
This proposal of mine is a brave plan. I need to tread carefully, to keep this within the right lines.
I take her hand in mine and take a deep, calming breath.
"Oh my God," she utters.
"Penélope Andrea Duarte Pascal—"
She doesn't let me ask the question.
"Bear, I said I would never marry. The whole thing— romance— not for me. I'm awful at all those things. You have big dreams and if we… got married…"
A couple of years ago, my last girlfriend dropped hints and I had to ask myself if I was ready for marriage.
I wasn't. The answer was so clear, I paused all dating.
No point in casually going out with people that I couldn't see myself with.
I waited and waited but no one appeared out of thin air to change my mind.
Now I'm down on my knees, asking my best friend to say yes, and there's no hesitation. Marrying Pen fits. It won't involve promises of romantic domesticity, or sexy nights, or sweet kisses goodnight, but this is our version of in sickness and in health.
"If we get married, it will be on our terms." I caress her hand. "Just like that kiss in your backyard. Our wedding will mean what we want it to mean. A pact we made. A promise to be friends and be there for each other. That's what I'm doing, Pen."
"We can't let this change anything between us." Her brow pulls up in a worried expression. "Nothing is worth risking what we have."
"We won't let it change us. You're not marrying a random guy you met on an app. Someone who was a disappointment within two business days. It's me, Pen. Your best friend. I'm not going to hurt you at the end of it."
Pen knows this. She gives me a small smile. "No. You wouldn't. But…"
"Getting to marry you as a friend is my honor," I say.
"With this, I get to take care of you and your dad for the next little while.
And you and I— We'll both have someone to come home to every day.
We'll have dinner together every chance we get.
We'll check-in with each other about our days.
That's already us, don't you see? But we'll do it more. "
"Leon…"
I gaze up at her. She still watches me with worry in her eyes, but there's a little curl at the end of her lips.
I kiss her knuckles. "Your parents mean so much to me. You mean so much to me. Let me be your platonic husband for a while and make you all happy. Your dad and I are both old-fashioned. Let me be old-fashioned and do this because I care deeply about you, and not because of what fairy tales say."
"Our friends— they will tease us relentlessly."
"Let them. We can get married anyway."
Tears fill her eyes again but this time— finally— she seems hopeful.
She comes down to her knees as well and puts her hands on my shoulders. "I never, ever thought this day would come. I'm getting married to my best friend."
"Is that a yes, Pen?"
I'm breathless. That surprises me more than the fact I just proposed to her.
"Let's get married, Bear."
"Fuck," I whisper, before I bring her close to me.
We hug tight. Right there on our knees, on the terrace of this fancy campground. Forehead to forehead, we breathe the same sweet lake air.
I chuckle. "I've thought of the moment I would get engaged often enough through the years. I have to admit…"
"You didn't think it would happen with me."
"Not like this, no."
I smirk, get up, and offer her a hand to help her get on her feet as well.
"If it helps, I'm nervous." She giggles. "I've sworn to people this would never happen."
"It doesn't matter what they think. They either believe us or they don't. What matters is why we're doing this and, Pen? I can't wait."
We make a few simple plans and eventually go inside. I make her take the bed, but we don't sleep together. I snuggle into the sofa bed, get my nightly dose of fanfic, and go to sleep like I'm not recently engaged to my best friend.
Upon waking up, we make coffee and get ready like we aren't about to tell her parents we're getting married in a couple of months.
What we're doing doesn't quite strike me until we're ringing the doorbell at her childhood home, and her dad stares at Pen like she hangs the moon.
It's a feeling I know well.