Page 76
Story: Make Your Change
We found a property with a half-sunken dock and a crooked pine tree that looks like it’s always bowing to the water. We settled on it three months ago and Carson immediately set to have all the work done so we could settle in as soon as summer began.
The dock was repaired and the interior of the house was updated and painted. A smile lifts my lips as I watch the sun catch the surface of the lake as I sink my bare toes into the mud and pebbles beneath the glass surface.
Matteo was exhausted from a full morning of swimming while Carson ran errands. He’s curled up on the couch where he fell asleep during the movie we put on after lunch.
I took a quiet moment alone to walk down to the water. To breathe it all in. These are my favorite days, when Carson is home. When it’s just the three of us, lost together in our own little world.
It feels like peace. It feels like home.
“Hey, Trouble.” He pauses. “Can you come here?”
His voice penetrates my soul, demanding my attention. I turn toward the dock and find Carson standing there, just on the other side of the crooked pine. His hoodie is pulled over his head, sleeves pushed to his elbows.
Something about him feels off and it tugs at the base of my spine. His shoulders are tense, hands shoved in his pockets. His expression is unreadable, as if he’s barely holding something in. My heart rate immediately spikes.
I wade out of the water, my breathing shallow. “What’s going on?”
Carson is silent as I step up onto the dock with him. I watch him in confusion as he lifts his hands, gripping the sides of his hood and pulls it back away from his face. He turns his head to the side, moving his body so I can see the scrawling ink etched in his skin along his neck.
It’s a fresh tattoo curving along his skin, edges tender and red as it’s still healing. I step closer, my eyes scanning the script.
Andalina.
My eyes widen. “You tattooed my name on you?”
Carson glances at me, a ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips. “I did.” His face falls, a frown tugging on his lips as he turns back to face me. His eyes slowly search mine. “You don’t like it.”
“No,” I swiftly shake my head, emotion catching in my throat. “I love it.”
He rolls his lips between his teeth to hide the grin that’s pulling on the corners of his mouth. “Good,” he says softly as he reaches for the bottom hem of his sweatshirt. “There’s more.”
My breath catches in my throat, the world tilting slightly as he lifts his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head, exposing his chest. Etched right over his heart is another tattoo, except this one is different. This one is written in my handwriting.
“With you, I’m home.”
“That’s...” I choke out, blinking back tears. “That’s from the note I left you.”
Carson takes a step closer, nodding as his gaze holds mine. “It was my first game of the season after you and Matteo officially moved in. It was the first time I had to leave you two after we evolved into this.” He motions with his hands, taking another step closer. “I’ve kept it tucked in my skate and I look at it before every game, but I needed something permanent.”
I close the remaining distance between us, pressing my hand to the skin around his tattoo, careful not to touch the red skin. I touch it as if it might anchor me to the moment between us.
“You tattooed my name,” I whisper, reaching one hand to tenderly touch his neck. “And my words.”
“I’m committed to you, Andalina. You and Matteo are my priority. The two of you come first and I need you to know that. What we have is real and I never want a day where this isn’t mine. Where you aren’t mine.”
Something cracks open inside my chest, raw and warm and deep.
And then Carson begins to sink onto one knee.
I momentarily forget how to stand, the world around us swaying like trees from the breeze dancing across the lake.
Carson’s hand plunges into the front pocket of his pants, pulling out a small black velvet box. His gaze flashes to mine andtears immediately prick the corners of my eyes. He slowly opens it and my breath catches.
Nestled inside the box is the most perfect ring. It’s not extravagant, it’s not loud. It’s an elegant, timeless, soft brushed white gold band with a delicate diamond that catches the sunlight.
“I want a life with you, Trouble. I want to go to bed every night with you in my arms. I want to wake up every morning next to you. I want all of the good days and all of the bad. I want you, Andalina. I want every fucking moment with you.”
My chest tightens, my heart pounding against my ribcage. I’ve known from that first night together that Carson is my home. There’s always been an invisible thread between us, tugging us back to one another.
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