"Thanks." I take the water, drink half of it in one go. "Where'd you disappear to?"
"Gave you space for your visitors. Figured you didn't need me hovering."
"I always need you hovering."
She smiles, settling back into her chair.
"Liar."
"Never. Not about you."
We sit in silence for a moment, just existing together.
It's nice.
Peaceful.
The kind of moment I want more of.
A lifetime of.
"Ingrid."
"Yeah?"
"I meant what I said earlier. About talking. About the future."
She tenses slightly.
"Okay."
"I almost died."
"I know. I was there."
"And the whole time—the parts I remember, anyway—all I could think about was you. About how I hadn't told you enough times that I love you. About all the things I wanted that I might never get to have."
"Gunnar—"
"Let me finish." I reach for her hand, pull her closer. "I'm done waiting. Done being careful. Done letting fear or timing or anything else get in the way of what I want."
"What do you want?"
"You. All of you. Every day. For the rest of my life." I meet her eyes. "I want you to be my old lady, Ingrid. Officially. I want everyone to know you're mine and I'm yours. I want to build a life with you—a real life, not just stolen moments and uncertainty."
Her eyes are swimming with tears.
"Are you sure? I'm a mess, Gunnar. I'm damaged and scared and I don't know if I?—"
"I'm sure. I've been sure for years. The only question is whether you're sure too."
She's quiet for a long moment.
So long that I start to wonder if I've made a mistake.
If I've pushed too hard, too fast.
If she's not ready.
