Chapter 39 #3
His mouth trembled.
“I choose you now.”
Reid closed his eyes.
I took his hand.
“Look at me.”
He did.
The fear in his face was so tender it nearly undid me.
“I don’t remember our first promise,” I said. “So I’m making one that belongs to me.”
His fingers tightened around mine.
“Reid Callahan, will you marry me?”
For one heartbeat, he did not move.
Then every restraint in him broke.
He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob and caught my face in both hands.
“Yes.”
The word came against my mouth.
“Yes.”
He kissed me.
I felt his tears.
Mine.
The ring trapped between our hands.
When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against mine.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
He pulled back.
I smiled.
“I’m sure I want to marry you. I’m not sure about dates, crowds, legal forms, or whether I can survive a ceremony without sleeping through dinner.”
Relief and laughter transformed his face.
“We do not need a date.”
“I don’t want a large wedding.”
“Good.”
“I might want Leah, the girls, Caleb, Owen, Marian, Elias, Miriam.”
“That is already large.”
“And Dr. Whitcomb so she can object to the cake.”
“She will.”
“I want Mercy there somehow.”
“We can marry on the dock.”
“What if it rains?”
“It will.”
“Then indoors.”
“We’ll decide later.”
I looked at the ring.
“Put it on me.”
Reid’s hands shook.
He took the band from the box.
“Last chance.”
“Cal.”
“Right.”
He slid it onto my finger.
The metal settled against my skin.
Not a memory.
A beginning.
I held up my hand.
“It fits.”
“I measured one of your old rings.”
“Clever.”
“I stole it from the bathroom drawer.”
“Criminal.”
“Worth it.”
I touched his cheek.
“You need one.”
“What?”
“A ring.”
“This one was for you.”
“We’re both getting married.”
His expression softened.
“You want to choose mine?”
“Yes.”
“Then choose it.”
“Nothing dramatic.”
“You say that while wearing blue enamel.”
“Subtle blue.”
“Of course.”
I moved closer until our thighs touched.
“I don’t want to wait years.”
“We won’t.”
“I need enough time not to turn planning into a neurological event.”
“We have time.”
“But not forever.”
“No.”
His hand covered mine, ring beneath his palm.
“One season at a time,” he said.
“Winter?”
“Engaged.”
“Spring?”
“Planning.”
“Summer?”
“Maybe married.”
My heart jumped.
“Maybe.”
“Enough.”
Marlowe rose from the rug and pushed his head between our knees.
Reid laughed and scratched behind his ears.
“You approve?”
The dog sneezed.
“Strong opinion.”
“He’s family,” I said.
“Yes.”
I looked around the apartment.
The green lamp.
Harbor windows.
Leah’s quilt folded over the chair.
The keys with the brass tag.
Reid beside me.
Nothing about the room had changed.
Everything had.
“I thought marriage would prove we were real,” I said.
Reid looked at me.
“We were real before.”
“I know.”
“So why now?”
I considered.
“Because I don’t want the future to be only something I fear.”
His eyes shone.
“I want to claim part of it.”
He lifted my ringed hand and kissed it.
“Claim as much as you want.”
“I want you in it.”
“I’m already there.”
I leaned into him.
His arms came around me.
The day’s noise faded.
My body had begun to tire—the soft warning that came before my words and balance began to fail. I recognized it.
Did not resent it.
“Couch,” I said.
“Bed?”
“Couch first.”
We settled beneath the navy blanket.
I lay against Reid’s chest with my ring between us. Marlowe found the smallest available space and occupied most of it.
Reid touched my hand every few minutes, as though checking the band remained.
“It’s not leaving,” I murmured.
“I know.”
“You keep touching it.”
“I waited a long time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
His voice became firm.
“No apology for the road that brought you here.”
I closed my eye.
“Tell me what happens next.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“You fall asleep.”
“Likely.”
“I carry you to bed.”
“Unnecessary.”
“Enjoyable.”
“Then?”
“Tomorrow, you complain about mornings. Marian reorganizes something I thought was already organized. Owen breaks a stool racing Caleb. We order your ring for me.”
“And after?”
“Work. Appointments. Dinner.”
“More.”
“Mercy in the basin. Canada someday. Leah’s girls getting older. Caleb’s baby arriving.”
“More.”
“Arguments.”
“About?”
“Coffee. Money. Whether you can climb ladders. How many dogs are too many.”
“No number.”
“Concerning.”
I smiled against his shirt.
“More.”
His hand moved into my hair.
“Whatever we get.”
The answer should have frightened me.
It didn’t.
Not because the future had become safe.
Because I was no longer facing it alone.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Reid kissed my forehead.
“I love you.”
“Fiancé.”
His breath caught.
“Say it again.”
“My fiancé.”
He held me tighter.
“Partner?”
“Always.”
“Husband?”
“Soon.”
The word settled deep inside me.
Soon.
Not a memory.
Not a promise left in a safe before an accident.
A direction.
My fingers closed over Reid’s heart.
Outside, the harbor wind moved rain against the windows. Downstairs, the yard rested beneath locked doors and new systems and work waiting for morning.
Reid whistled softly.
Two short notes.
One long.
Find me.
I answered against his chest.
“I’m here.”