Page 40

Heather notices the ring right away, and her breath catches. She doesn’t touch it. Instead, she just stares. Her eyes are wide and disbelieving when she looks up at me. “You did this?” she says breathlessly.

I nod, reaching across the table. Wrapping one hand around the top of the dome, I lift it up, and the sound of it lifting—nothing more than a tiny clink of glass on porcelain—echoes louder than it should.

After I set it aside, I speak. “This was the ring my great-grandfather bought for my great-grandmother. When my grandmother died, it was passed down to me.”

I pick up the ring and hold it up, so it sparkles in the light. “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find the woman of my dreams.” Taking her hand, I slide the ring onto her finger. “But then I met you. And suddenly, I knew you were the one woman I couldn’t live without.”

We both realize the ring fits like it was custom made for her finger. That’s a stroke of pure luck. She’s not breathing. I can tell by the way her chest lifts just once, shallow and shocked, then doesn’t move at all. The ring is on her finger. My hand is wrapped around hers, but she’s frozen.

Her mouth opens a bit, but no words come out. My proposal can’t be this much of a shock, I think to myself. Her eyes begin to tear up and I find myself praying those are happy tears. She’s staring at me like I just turned her whole damn world upside down. Which I guess I did without meaning to.

But now I’m sitting across from her, trying to discern her expression. All I can think of is maybe I asked too soon. Maybe I read her wrong. My jaw clenches, but I don’t move. I can barely breathe.

My stomach knots. I haven’t felt this kind of fear since the day Grime put a knife to her throat and told me I couldn’t reach her in time. This feels like that, only with a different edge to it.

Then her eyes lift to mine. She states sincerely, her voice a mere whisper, “I would’ve married you the night you kicked in that warehouse door.”

I bring her hand to my lips and seal the ring onto her finger with a kiss. The relief I feel in my chest is profound.

“I wanted to be yours forever,” she goes on, her voice breaking. “I wanted to say it every time you looked at me like I mattered. Every time you held me when I needed you more than I needed my next breath.”

She reaches up and touches my jaw, and I lean into it without thinking. “You’ve been loving me the whole time, haven’t you?” she asks.

“Yeah. Of course I have. Thought you knew. I was just waiting to see if you would ghost me like all the others did.”

A tear slips down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb.

“Not a chance,” she says. “You’re never getting rid of me.” The tone of her voice is what makes me believe she’s telling the truth, more so than her words.

The restaurant has gone quiet. I don’t even know when it happened.

We’re still holding hands over the table, with the sugar rose glinting on the plate in front of her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a couple across the room watching us. The woman’s got her hands clasped and her chin wobbling emotionally. The guy beside her nods once like he’s taking mental notes of how this proposal went down. Suddenly, this feels too public.

The waiter doesn’t come back right away. The smart man clearly understands the importance of the moment and is giving us space.

When I look into Heather’s eyes, that’s when I see the outpouring of love I’ve always wanted to see when a woman looks at me. That’s the moment I let myself believe that I’m not dreaming. She said yes. She chose me. It wasn’t out of fear. Not out of necessity. But because she wants me.

When she finally pulls back, her smile is watery and a little uneven, exactly how I love it.

“So,” she says, swiping her thumb under her eye. “Do I still get dessert?”

I huff a laugh. “You are dessert, sweetness.”

She tilts her head. “Okay. But also… I still want cake.”

She’s dead serious. I just proposed with a big fat diamond and she’s worried about cake. When she puts her hand on her belly, I realize it’s probably a pregnancy craving. So, I tell her eagerly, “I’ll get you twelve cakes if that’s what you want, darlin’.”

She laughs, running her hands over her stomach. “I don’t need twelve, maybe one for me and one for the baby.”

I lean back in my seat, and she relaxes as well. She keeps staring at her hand, twisting it under the light like she’s afraid it’ll disappear.

“You like the ring?” I ask.

She snorts. “Ghost, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned.”

“I’m glad. It looks good on you.”

I can’t keep the smile off my face. I motion the waiter over, and he rushes over, clearly relieved that everything went smoothly and she’s actually wearing the ring.

“You did an amazing job tonight. We were thinking that we might take a cake for the road. Maybe that chocolate on you have on the menu.”

We leave with our dessert. Heather’s fingers are laced with mine the whole way out of the restaurant.

I love the way she clings to me like she’s afraid if she lets go, all the happiness we just created might vanish in the blink of an eye.

Or even, like I might vanish. I won’t. Not now.

Not ever. She’ll learn that soon enough.

By the time we pull up to the house, she’s falling asleep in her seat. I hate waking her, but I can’t leave her in the truck all night. I hold out my hand to help her down. She takes the help I offer without hesitation.

“You okay?” I ask, keeping her close.

She nods. “I’m tired. But it’s the good kind of tired from doing all the things I love best with the man I love.”

I unlock the door and let us in.

Heather kicks off her shoes near the door and stretches, long and slow, the slit in her dress riding up just a little.

I should be thinking about getting her to bed, but all I can think is how this is the woman I get to marry.

“You know what I was thinking on the ride home?” she asks, leaning against the kitchen island.

“What?”

“I never imagined this.”

“This?”

“This life. This house. You.” She looks down at the ring again. “Finally, being wanted like this and not by just anyone. Being wanted by the person you love is the best feeling in the entire world.”

I step closer. “Hell, Heather. I’ve wanted you since you knocked on my damn garage door.”

She smiles.

“And then you when you found out you were pregnant, and I was fuckin’ thrilled because I wanted to be the one you turned to first when you started looking for a father for your child.”

“Sure you want to raise another man’s child? Your enemy’s child?”

“Hell the fuck yes, I do. I already told you that once. That baby in your belly will be what makes him.” I reach out and cup her face. “I believe in nurture, not nature.”

She nods, tearing up again. “I’m glad you see him that way. He’s going to need a strong male role model in order to learn right from wrong. I don’t want him to end up like his sperm donor.”

She lets out a little laugh because we both know that’s just what Carnage was. God knows he wasn’t father material, much less father-of-the-year material.

I tell her reassuringly, “Don’t worry, sweetness. We’ll love him and raise him up right.”

She gazes up at me, her eyes warm and soft. “I love you for wanting to be my son’s father. You’re a good man. I hope you know that.”

I tell her one of my most closely guarded secrets, “I don’t know if you realize it or not, but you make me better. And you make me softer in the ways I didn’t think I was allowed to be.”

Her eyes are warm and loving. “Maybe we make each other better. You make me feel safe enough to share all my deepest secrets.” she says quietly. “I’ve never had that before.”

I step forward and wrap her up in my arms. She doesn’t fight it or try to speak. Just melts into me like this is where she was always meant to be. Her hands clutch the back of my fancy jacket. Mine settle on the small of her back and the round curve of our baby.

When we eventually make it into bed, she rests her head on my chest.

She drapes her hand over my heart, her thumb tracing lazy circles over the ink on my skin.

“Were you really nervous tonight?” she asks.

“Fuck yeah,” I admit.

“Why?” she asks, her voice innocent and curious.

“Because you matter more than anything I’ve ever had or tried to hang onto.”

She’s quiet for a second.

Then she says, “I’m not going anywhere.”

I tighten my arm around her. “Neither am I.”

And just like that, it’s settled. Not the proposal or the ring, but us being together for the long haul. And tomorrow, the real forever starts.