Chapter 40 #3
“Do you mind if I say something first?” he asks softly.
“Go ahead.” I need a few minutes to gather my thoughts.
“We don’t have much time right now, because I need to mingle with the donors. And I want to talk about everything later. But I don’t know when we’ll get cut off.” He straightens, suddenly all business. “So, I want to talk about your dress.”
Confused, my eyes search his for clarity. “My dress?”
“Mhm. You look perfect.”
“Tessa told me you picked out the color. Danny, that’s so thoughtful. It’s lovely.”
“It’s beautiful because it’s you.” He gently strokes his thumb underneath my blue eye, and my pulse races.
“It’s so sweet, thank you.”
“That’s not what I wanted to talk about, though. I mean, it is and isn’t. It’s not the first time I’ve picked out something for you in that color,” he says carefully.
I wrack my brain trying to think of all the presents Danny has gifted me throughout the years. Nothing in this color comes to mind. Most of my birthday presents revolved around experiences, like concert tickets.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t remember…”
“I actually never gave it to you. I wanted to give it to you the day that I told you about the transfer.”
“The day we broke up?”
He nods with a heartbroken expression, as if he’s remembering that day.
“I picked something out for you in this same color. I spent some of the money I’d saved up from mowing lawns over the summer to buy it. But, um, obviously the conversation didn’t go the way I thought it might, and then we didn’t talk anymore.”
He pulls out a small, wooden box that looks weathered around the edges. It’s the size of a… Holy shit. It’s a ring box.
My heart starts pounding, almost leaping out of my chest. “Were you going to…propose to me?”
Danny grins. “If I thought you would’ve said yes, maybe.” He shakes his head a few times. “But, no. It wasn’t for a marriage proposal.”
I feel a little relief and…disappointment, maybe? But we definitely weren’t ready for marriage then.
“I want to give it to you now so you can wear it tonight. It matches your dress perfectly. And, if you’re open to it, I’d like for it to mean the same thing now that it was supposed to mean then. That I’m committed to you. That you’re it for me, Gracie. If I have your permission.”
He hands me the box, and I gently pry it open so as to not disturb what’s inside. A small tanzanite gemstone sparkles up at me. It’s sitting in the middle of a dainty, silver band. Danny picked this out for me ten years ago. He’s held onto it all this time?
“You were going to give me a promise ring?”
“Yeah.” His words are quiet, threaded with emotion. “Even Mom knew.”
“Janie knew about this?”
He rubs his hand down his face. “She was happy. She said that you were already like a daughter to her.”
“I’m…I’m angry at us for going this long without speaking. We wasted so much time,” I say between sniffles.
Danny scratches his chin. “Looking back, you were right to do what you did for both of us. We both had growing up to do. We found our way back to each other, and that’s what I choose to focus on.”
“You’re right.” I stare into the floor. “It’s just hard, thinking about what could have been.”
He places a finger underneath my chin, tilting it up, and our eyes meet. “You know what’s better than ‘what could have been,’ Gracie girl?”
“Hm?”
“What’s happening right now.”
A sob wracks me, and Danny hands me his handkerchief.
I take a deep breath. “I’ve always loved you, Danny. Then…and now.”
Even with that simple confession, a tear rolls down his cheek. He chuckles and wipes it with the back of his hand.
“I loved you when you were just a memory,” I whisper. “I loved you when I didn’t know if we would ever be ‘us’ again.”
“God. Me too, Gracie.”
We lean in at the same time for a hug. He showers me with soft praises, murmuring, “you’re my best friend” and “love of my life” over and over again in my ear, like a refrain to a hymn only we know.
After a few minutes, we pull back and chuckle at each other’s puffy eyes and splotchy faces. Danny hums softly. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”
I gesture to my face, feeling my cheeks tighten from crying. “What are you going to do with me?”
“Marry you one day, if you’ll let me.”
I tilt my head and stare at him in wonder.
He gently cups my face and hovers his lips over my mouth.
He pauses, searches my eyes, and asks, “Do you want this?” Just like he did when we were young.
It feels like our first kiss all over again, but with different promises attached to our lips now.
The nerves are there, but so is the muscle memory.
“Yes.” My tone is soft, fervent, like a prayer.
He kisses me, and my heart whispers finally.
He kisses me with so much longing it makes my eyes water and my toes curl.
It feels like the Danny-shaped cracks in my chest are slowly being repaired, like we’re making commitments we can keep this time.
His lips nudge mine open, and then his tongue is tangled in mine, before he seems to realize where we are and pulls away.
He stares at me like I’m rare, then picks up my right hand and gently kisses the inside of my wrist. He does the same with my left wrist, my pulse point beating beneath his lips. I bloom under his gaze for a few more minutes before he reluctantly leaves to mingle with potential donors.
The rest of the gala goes off without a hitch.
According to Danny, it’s their most successful event yet, with donations almost doubling the goal.
I spend the evening watching him in his element—shaking hands and mingling with guests, confidently chatting up potential donors, and making everyone feel welcome.
Meanwhile, he frequently checks on Tessa and me, often requesting servers stop by with refreshments and platters of food at our table.
And when dinner is over, Danny makes sure to deliver the dessert himself: a strawberry milkshake, garnished with chocolate-covered honeycomb.