Chapter 17 Koren
seventeen
Koren
It’s Sunday evening, and everyone has left to return to Mapleton.
Elijah and I took a couple of extra hours at the lake for just the two of us.
My whole life has changed in the best way these last twenty-four hours.
I’m nervous to see how things go once we settle back into our routines.
Now my car is packed with no sign of Elijah, so I cross the yard to his house and bang on his front door.
When no one answers, I try the doorknob.
It opens right up. “Hey,” I call up the stairs. “Did you fall asleep?”
No answer.
With a sigh, and the smallest hint of a smile, I pull a Goldilocks move and let myself in. The downstairs is empty, so I take the stairs two at a time and pad down the familiar hallway. Elijah’s bedroom door is cracked open, and I pause, peeking in.
His room is exactly the same as I remember it.
Blue comforter. Random hockey gear next to his bed.
My heart nearly stutters out of my chest when I spot the framed photo of us on the dock last summer, sunburned and grinning like fools in love.
I doubt he had time to put it up in the last few hours.
So that means he literally never took it down.
I can’t believe I almost missed what was right in front of me.
I scan the room again, confirming Elijah is nowhere to be found.
I’m about to pivot to check the bathroom, but my eyes fall back on his nightstand.
A small black Bible sits on top, exactly how I place my Bible by my bed.
My brows furrow together. He never used to have a Bible before.
Not by his bed, anyway. We’re both Christians and have obviously shared with each other many times our beliefs, but it’s fair to say I was one more versed in the Bible than him.
My feet slide forward like some sort of string is tugging them forward until I’m standing in front of it, my fingers brushing over the cover.
It’s beautifully leather-bound, and my curiosity is piqued as to why it’s here.
Does he actually read it? Picking it up, the spine feels trained to open to a page, and I let it fall the way it wants.
1 Corinthians 13.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.
Disbelief floods my brain as my breath hitches in the back of my throat. Had he been praying our wedding verse? A coiled thread drops from the back cover and floats to the floor. I blink, and blink again.
It’s not a thread but a braided stem of lavender, twisted into a ring. It’s mostly dried and crumpled but not without recognition.
My ring.
The sight of it pulls me back in time to the day he proposed, every detail vivid and sharp.
The hike had started with butterflies.
Literally.
I don’t know if they were migrating that day or what, but dozens of butterflies followed us on the trail.
Elijah had scouted it earlier that week and said I had to hike it because it had wild lavender fields in bloom.
Of course, I couldn’t turn that down. The sun was high overhead, and I hadn’t drunk enough water.
I thought the dizziness in my head was normal, and I just needed to catch my breath.
When we reached the peak of the trail, that’s where the lavender fields started, stretching out as far as we could see.
It was stunning. I turned to make sure he was seeing what I was seeing, but then my world tilted.
My knees gave out.
It wasn’t the first time I had fainted. It’s just something that happens to me sometimes. Although, I had failed to tell him about my disorder.
The next thing I knew, I was cradled in his arms, and his voice panicked. “Koren! Look at me. Come on. Open your eyes. Please don’t die.”
I blinked, opening the world back up. My vision blurred for a moment, but I could make out enough to see his eyes were filled with absolute terror. He was shaking. His hand flew to cover his mouth, and he blurted out, “You’re alive!”
“Of course, I’m alive.” I was weak, but I tried to sit up.
He gently pressed a hand to my back. “No, stay for a second, and tell me what just happened.”
“I fainted. I’ll be fine. It happens sometimes. Sorry if I scared you.”
He looked around wildly, like something was going to attack us.
Then, with the most serious face I’d ever seen on him, he sprang up and charged into the lavender field.
When he returned, he looked at the lavender in his hands, then back at me like something inside him had just snapped into place.
“I can’t do that again,” he said quietly.
“I can’t watch you be unconscious like that. Not even for a second.”
I froze.
He looked down and started fumbling with the lavender in his fingers. Twisting it, knotting it, hands still shaking. I didn’t realize what he was doing until he reached for my hand.
“I don’t have a ring,” he said, “and this is probably insane, and we’re literally sitting in the dirt, but—”
He slid the lavender loop onto my finger.
“Marry me,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “Till death do us part. But like—way, way later. Not today. None of this sudden death stuff. That’s for the hockey rink.”
My breath caught. Not because I was overwhelmed. Not even because I was surprised. Because at that moment, with crushed lavender on my finger and dirt on my jeans and a boy who looked like he'd nearly lost everything, I’d never been more sure of anything in my life.
So I kissed him. And when I pulled back, I whispered, “Yes.”
And he held me like he never, ever wanted to let go.
“I found it the morning after you left. It was on your bedroom floor.” Elijah’s voice floats from behind me.
Turning on my heel, I find him with one shoulder propped against his doorframe, watching me.
“I couldn’t believe you’d left. Frantic to find you, I snuck into your room, scouring it for clues.
Part of me felt like it was an accident, but the other part of me wondered if you had been careless with it on purpose. ”
My throat cinches even more, so much so I drop my jaw to get more air.
I hold the ring in my hand, heart skipping a beat. “I thought it was in my Bible, but I left in such a hurry, it must have fallen out when I went to read the verse one more time.”
He steps forward until he gets to his bed, and he sits on the edge. “I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.”
Tears well in my eyes as I slip the ring onto my finger. It’s so dried and fragile, I hold it together with my free hand. I don’t even care that it’s basically destroyed. My heart fills with so much joy, my tears fall freely. “I was going to marry you.”
“I know.” Elijah reaches for my hands, folding them gently in his. “And we are going to get married.” He smirks, tipping his head toward me. “I’ll get a new ring. One that lasts. One with metal. One with forever in it.”
I don’t even care about the ring. I never really did.
It was never about that, as it was always about us.
Now as we move forward, both vowing to be even more intentional about keeping each other at the core of our relationship, I’m overcome with emotion.
His hand is still holding mine, and I pull him to me, and kiss him.
It fuels my heart with all the love we have coming.
When we break apart, I let out a breath and say, “Thank you for keeping it safe for me.”
“Always.” He winks at me, and it sends a shiver right through me. It’s a simple reply, but I believe him.