Page 115 of This Blood that Bonds Us

That at least made her smile. I hadn’t met him yet. Mom was good at avoiding the topic. She spent most nights with us, but the ones she spent with him always left her glowingly happy.

She huffed, and her face grew red while she pushed her hands through her hair.

“Alright. That means I’ll have more to look forward to when you all come back.”

My mom never broke in front of the family. I never realized it as a kid, but it was obvious as she regained her composure and resolve. She’d mourn about it in private and never let her sorrow touch the three of us. The solar eclipse was soon, and even if we wouldn’t be leaving like we’d planned, it was the start of something. Our time in shelter was ending.

The battle was almost at my doorstep, and I was ready.

I wished there was an easy thing to say to my mom to make her feel better, but the best gift I could give her was stronger than any words—the gift of my brothers coming home.

“Where did you get those?” Kimberly’s eyes widened when she saw me make my way up the stairs to our bedroom.

Finding peonies in Alaska was a million times harder than in California. I had to bribe one of Mom’s older neighbors to get them from the city, and it wasn’t cheap, but her timing was perfect.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re for you.” I plucked off a petal and smelled it, trying to inscribe it into my brain forever.

Kimberly smiled. I hated how stressful her life had become. It was hard not to take the blame, but everything was almost over, and soon, very soon, we’d all be at that lake breathing in the sunlight.

She wore my shirt and high wool socks that grazed her thighs. My favorite. There was no way she couldn’t tell my heart was beating harder, but if she’d caught on, she hid it well. She was just about to pick up her notepad as I plopped on the bed beside her.

“Burns.”

Her eyes met mine, and I was taken back to the smell of the peonies on our college campus and to last spring when everything was fresh and new. When she was a stranger and we were both afraid of getting too close, but now she was everywhere. In my bed. In my veins. In every part of my life that mattered.

I’d never been more sure of anything.

I pulled my grandmother’s ring from my pocket and hopped off the bed to get on my knee. “Kimberly.”

Her eyes went wide. “Aaron . . . where did you get that ring?”

“It was my grandmother’s. Mom said it was special, and that means . . . it was waiting for you, I think.”

I was down on my knee holding her hand, and at my words, tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

“Kim . . .”

“Wait, are you doing this because you think we’re going to die?”

“No. The opposite, actually. I think we’re going to win, and I have to think ahead. And I know we’re not in a hurry. But I’m so unbelievably sure that I need you to be my wife. I want the title. I’m greedy. I can’t spend another minute on this earth without having you as my fiancé. I need it all. And once this is over, I’m taking all of your days and nights.”

A soft sob left her throat, and she let me place the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly. I wasn’t even worried it wouldn’t. It was all too perfect. The ring and the moment were made for her.

“Kimberly Burns, will you—”

“Wait.”

My chest hurt from my heart punching me in the ribs. Why was I so nervous? Maybe she would say no. It was too fast. She needed more time. Maybe—

“Ask me after it’s over. Ask me when it’s over so I have something to look forward to.”

I let out a breath of relief. She needed hope for the future, and I was happy to be that for her.

Standing, I placed a hand on her cheek to wipe the wetness from the corner of her eye. “Okay. Then . . . forever?”

“Yes. Forever.” She smiled, and I tackled her on the bed to bask in her warmth. “Can I still wear it?”

“Of course. It’s yours. It was made for you.”