Page 83
Story: Tied up in Knots
“I love it.” tears well in my eyes as I continue to stare at the house that will soon be our home. “But how could you afford it?”
Facing him once again his smile is wider, and he shrugs the shoulder not doubling as a pillow to our son.
“I sold my boat.”
“You sold theKnotty Boy? But you love that boat.”
That boat was his safe haven, his refuge and safe space to be himself and escape his father. That boat is the one and only thing he’s ever fought for, ever wanted and loved.
“I love you more. I love Noah more. It’s just a boat Bambi and we both know we can’t live on it with a baby, especially when I want more.”
I’m too stunned to speak. Unable to comprehend the sacrifice he’s just made for us and our family so we can have a home. A place to grow and create memories in.
A boat is mobile, a way for Warren to remain unattached and free from solidifying himself anywhere. For him to give itup means a lot. He’s giving up his ability to leave, his ability to escape and be free. He’s putting the final nail in his foundation here in Homer. His final way to prove to me this is what he wants and he’s not going anywhere.
“Thank you,” I manage through watery eyes and the frog in my throat.
“There’s one more thing.”
There’s more? I don’t know how he’s going to top this one.
Warren circles to face me, the_our house behind him, Noah still quietly cooing in his arm. The image almost has me bursting out in hysterical tears and joyous laughter. But I hold in my reaction waiting for this even better surprise.
In one swift motion Warren lowers to one knee and pulls a small velvet box from behind his back. My heart almost stops in my chest as he single-handedly opens the box to reveal a ring. A ring I recognize. Gigi showed it to me years ago and told me one day she would give it to the man she approved of for me. Which is how I know he has her blessing.
The large natural pearl sits nestled in a beautifully handmade filigree, the ring over a hundred years old and worn by my ancestors. Modern times may not be as set in tradition as it once was, but I’m glad that this one thing has survived throughout the generations.
I’m so focused on the ring and its significance I almost miss Warren’s words.
“I love you, Bambi. I may have been a stupid kid and done a number of stupid things, including leaving last year. But I’d like to think I’ve learned my lesson and come to my senses. I want nothing more than to plant my roots right here with you. To grow our family and then grow old in this house, reminiscing of our youth spent vandalizing our home not knowing one day it would be the place where you would make me the happiest manin the world. Will you marry me? Let me call you wife and have many more babies with me? Please?”
I think it’s the please that breaks me. A tear-filled watery laugh bursts from my chest and I fall into his embrace, careful of Noah, and wrap my arms around his neck as best I can.
“Is that a yes?” His voice is muffled, and it sounds like he’s laughing too.
I lean back and press a hard kiss to his lips speaking directly into them. “That’s a yes.”
“Good because I don’t know what I would do with this house if you said no.”
Another laugh escapes me and I kiss him again, my hands cupping his scruffy jaw. “You really think I would say no after tattooing your name on my ass?”
“I hoped not, but I’ve been wrong before.”
“That you have, but I think you’re finally starting to get it right.”
“Me too.”
He stands and holds the ring between us, fumbling with it to get it out while still holding Noah. I help him out, taking the velvet box and holding my left hand out for him to slide the ring onto my finger.
“Now there’s no question you’re mine,” he states.
“I was always yours. You just didn’t know it.”
His free arm circles my back and pulls me into his chest, cradling me and our son against his chest. A soft kiss presses against my hair as I not so subtly wipe my eyes on his dark shirt.
“I think I did, I was just too afraid and thick headed to admit it.”
“Well, I’m glad you finally realized it.”
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