“Right, mixing booze with pain meds—that sounds healthy.”
“Might not be healthy, but it works.” I grin at her. “Remember that time back in Brooklyn when that crooked cop used my face as a punching bag?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I’d never seen anyone beat up so bad.” She looks closer at my face. “It’s amazing you don’t have any scars.”
“Can’t hurt this pretty face.” I cock my head. “Anyway, a couple of shots of Jack, your sweet body, and all my pain went away.”
“Yes, well, having major surgery is a little different. You shouldn’t even be out of the hospital, but I think the doctor just let you go to shut you up.”
“I go with what works, babe, and, like I said, there was no way I was spending our first Christmas together in a damn hospital bed.”
“Fine, but just please take it easy. Remember the doctor said you can only climb the stairs once a day, so when you get tired, I’ll help you upstairs to bed.”
“Somehow I don’t think you mean those words the way they sound.”
“Always the wise guy.”
“And you love it.” I pat the cushion next to me, then take in the twist of wrapping paper strewn across the rug, the beautifully lit tree and the smell of our Christmas dinner complete with empanadas. Sadly, I never got my mother’s recipe. But Cheryl hounded Madeline, Boa’s woman, who runs her own catering business, until she found an authentic recipe for empanadas.
“Pretty close to perfect, right?” Cheryl snuggles into my good side, and I wrap my arm around her, holding her tight.
“Only one other thing that would make this absolutely perfect.”
She turns to face me. “What’s that?”
“If you would be my wife.”
She lowers her gaze and stills in my arms. Not the reaction I expected, but then my girl is always full of surprises.
“You asked me when we first moved in together. Then you never brought the subject up again.”
“‘Cause you said we should wait because we’d been apart for so long. At first, I was pissed, but then I got to thinking maybe you were right. Ten years is a long-ass time, and we are different people now than when we were back in Brooklyn.”
“Too different?”
“Nah, different in better ways. We grew up. I like to think we got a little smarter. You with your own successful business. Sometimes you scare the hell outta me with your confidence.”
“Thanks, but I don’t always feel that way.” She lowers her eyes.
“Well, you should. You were right all along about getting in the holiday spirit and buying all of Portia’s gifts. I wouldn’t have known what to buy the kid, but you nailed it.”
“We also had more to work through than most couples.”
“Not too many couples been through all the shit we’ve seen.” I huff out a laugh. “I could make up a lot of lame-ass excuses, but the main reason I never mentioned marriage again is because I didn’t think I could take another rejection. I wanna be in Portia’s life no matter what our relationship is, but I couldn’t put my feelings out there again.”
“Rejection is a hard emotion.”
I thread my fingers through her hair. “When we were apart, I told myself I didn’t love you anymore, and that I didn’t need you anymore. Nothing but a big fuckin’ lie.”
“Leaving Frank’s office that night was the hardest thing I ever had to do.”
“I played that night over and over in my head. I can still see his office so clearly. All the things I could’ve done, should’ve said, but—but I didn’t.”
She squeezes my hand. “It was a crazy time. Me finding out Frank was my father, then him forcing me to leave you messed with me in so many different ways.”
“I remember the tears in your eyes too.” I caress her cheek. “You broke me that night.”
“When I left Frank’s office, I ran for blocks. I didn’t know where I was going. I finally stopped, totally out of breath. I thought about going back. Demanding Frank to let us be together, but deep down, I knew what he did was best for both of us.”
