Deep.
Full of everything.
"I love you," she says against my mouth.
"I love you too."
She laughs again, tears still falling, and kisses me once more.
"I can't believe you did this. I can't believe—the ring, it's so beautiful. How did you know? How did you know exactly what I'd want?"
"Your mom helped."
"My mom knows?"
"I asked your parents for their blessing this morning. Your mom cried more than you are right now."
"That's not possible."
"It's very possible. She went through an entire pack of tissues at the jewelry store."
Ingrid laughs, wiping her eyes. "She's going to be insufferable. Planning everything. Picking out flowers and dresses and?—"
"Let her. She's waited a long time for this."
"So have I." She looks at the ring again, then at me. "So have I."
We stand there for a moment.
In our empty house.
In our future.
Just holding each other.
"I want to celebrate," she whispers.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Her hands slide down my chest. "I want to celebrate in our new home. On our new floor. Just you and me and this ring on my finger."
"My wound?—"
"We'll be careful. You can lie down. Let me do the work." Her eyes darken with heat. "Let me show you how much I love you."
I groan.
"You're going to kill me."
"After everything you've survived? I don't think so." She pulls me toward the empty living room. "Come on, fiancé. Let's break in our new place."
She leads me into the bare space, the hardwood floor cool under our feet.
Sunlight filters through the uncovered windows, casting long shadows across the empty room.
No couch, no bed, nothing but us and the promise of what's coming.
Ingrid turns to me, her fingers hooking into my cut, sliding it off my shoulders.
