Just in time for my brother to walk out of the living room, tossing a shrimp into his mouth. “Come on. Let’s get the show on the road.”
Taylor screams and hides against my chest.
My brother notices the dress on the floor and bursts out laughing. “The honeymoon comes after the proposal, you two.”
“What is going on?” Taylor gasps, all but climbing me for coverage. I block her as best as I can, but I can’t do anything about the mirrors on the wall. Or the fact that her legs are so gorgeous and attention grabbing, they should be illegal. “Why…I thought we were alone…”
My mother and father amble out, crowding into the entryway. Along with Jude. And Kevin’s husband. It takes Mr. and Mrs. Bassey a moment to join the party, but of course they do, drawing the same conclusion of everyone else. That we were about to knock boots with seven people waiting in the living room. And I’m not so sure we weren’t. Damn that pink dress.
“Does this mean she said yes?” Taylor’s father asks, peering at us through his glasses.
“It certainly doesn’t look like a no,” responds Mrs. Bassey, as if they’re discussing one of the art installations they love so much.
My father pats me on the back. “Congratulations, son.”
This isn’t happening. I’ve had nightmares about this proposal going awry, but never in my wildest dreams, did I imagine it could devolve into a shit show of these proportions.
“I haven’t asked her yet,” I grit out over my shoulder. “Could everyone just be quiet and let me try and salvage this?”
Before the situation can get any worse, before she says no to marrying me and I have to go throw myself into traffic, I lean back a little and wrap Taylor more securely in the jacket, making sure she’s covered from neck to mid-thigh. And then I take out the ring box and get down on one knee, my pulse seeming to echo throughout the entire room.
Eyes full of unshed tears, she looks down at me and gives me a watery laugh.
She’s going to say yes.
With that one sound of joy, she knows and I know that everything is going to be fine.
We get each other forever.
But she’s still going to hear what I’ve got to say, just in case I haven’t professed my love often enough over the past two years. Spoiler alert: I have. And I’ll never stop.
“Taylor Bassey. You became the most important person in my life overnight. I didn’t have a pulse when I found you and now it never slows down. Because you exist. Because somehow you’re mine. You not only reminded me of who I used to be, but you made me believe I could be even better a second time around. But I’m only better with you beside me. I want you for my wife.” My voice cracks and I have to pause to clear my throat. “Will you please be my wife?”
“Yes,” she says, without a second’s hesitation. As if she knows I couldn’t bear waiting. “Of course I’ll be your wife. I love you.”
“Christ, I love you, too, Taylor.” Happiness and relief and love are overflowing inside of me, only growing more intense when I stand and she’s right there in my arms, where she’s supposed to be.
But of course, the jacket has fallen off. And we have a new photo to add to the collage.
We continue to add to it for the next six decades. Until it takes up the entire wall and spills into the living room. A tapestry of joy.
THE END