Page 74 of Gravity
“Yeah, Dad. That's perfect.”
That's tomorrow, though. In a few hours, we'll arrive at Bryce's hometown, where there's a Cup party planned for the village. I'll be meeting Bryce's family, and we're staying the night at his parent's house.
For days, Bryce's mother and father have been calling Bryce to ask him if I'll prefer this or that, or if I would rather have that or this to eat or drink, or what sheets I'll want, or which brand of soap or shampoo. Bryce, fed up after the twelfth call, told them I will love everything about them and their home, no matter what.
“Nous voulons prendre soin de lui comme il se soucie de toi, chéri,” Leo said.
I want them to know how much I care for their son. No, how much Ilovetheir son. In fact, I want everyone in the world to know how much I love Bryce.
Most of all, I want Bryce to know that there is no end to my love.
Summer in Quebec is still hoodie weather, especially for a guy from Texas. I dig in the front pocket of my hoodie for the box I shoved in there this morning. It's about the size of a hockey puck, square, and hard plastic. It's badly wrapped in brown paper. I pass it over.
“Quoi?” Bryce smiles as he takes it. He chuckles at my wrapping, then balls up the paper and tucks it back into my hoodie. “Is this the one?” His fingers drift across the front of the puck case.
“It is.” I've framed the puck he scored the winning goal with during our final game. There's a notch in the rubber on one side, probably from where he slapped the shit out of to send it hurtling over one-hundred-and-three-miles-per-hour into the net. I nudge him. “Open the case. And turn it over.”
He frowns, but pulls the plastic frame off the box and plucks the puck from within. He holds it in his hands, feels the weight of it—
And stills. His eyes dart to me.
I've taped a ring to the back side of the puck. It's a simple band, a deep silver color that reflects light in scattered prisms. It's made from a meteor mined out of Quebec. Starlight that came to Earth. Like Bryce.
I slide to the ground in front of him on one knee. “You once asked me, when we were sitting by another river, what it all meant. What happens next? And what does the future look like?” I take his hands in mine. He's holding the ring, staring at it, staring at me. “Je veux passer ma vie avec toi.”
His lips are parted, shock painted on his face. “Hunter…”
I kiss his fingers and smile. “Veux-tu m'épouser?”
“Mais oui.” Bryce beams. “Mon Dieu,oui, oui, mon amour.”
He laughs as I slide the ring onto his finger, and then he drops to his knees with me so we are face to face. He holds my hand in his as he kisses me, slowly, deeply, like he's defining the word “love” with this single kiss. “Oui.”
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