He draws back just enough to see my face. “You already made me the happiest man alive by agreeing to be my wife,” he declares. Then, his forehead comes to rest against mine.
Breaths mingling, we hold each other as the enormity of what just happened settles between us.
But a sudden thought strikes me like lightning, and I can’t stop the laugh that escapes me. Nathaniel pulls back, bewildered. My laugh grows into something fuller, tears slipping again but this time for an entirely different reason.
I wipe my eyes, still grinning. “It just occurred to me that you’ve proposed twice now, and both times were right after sex.” I gesture to his bare torso. “You’re not even wearing a shirt!”
Nathaniel joins my laughter. “In my defense, I figured getting you in a good mood helped my odds.” He smirks, glancing at his own body. “And giving you something pretty to look at never hurts.”
I snort. “Imagine what we’ll have to tell our kids when they ask how you proposed.”
“We can practice tonight,” he deadpans without missing a beat. “When I have to tell my mother how I proposed to you.”
“Oh my god,” I groan, laughing harder. “Please don’t tell her the whole truth.”
Nathaniel is still on his knees when the moment finally settles.
I give his hand a gentle tug. “Get off the floor, Nate. Come sit with me.” My mouth curves. “I want a cuddle.”
He rises fluidly, his palms sliding up my thighs for balance, sending tiny sparks dancing up my skin. He settles beside me on the sofa and immediately draws me into his lap, guiding me into the curve of his body. I fold into him, my cheek finding the familiar space just beneath his shoulder.
His chest is warm against my side, his heartbeat steady under my palm. For a long moment, we stay like this.
Then his palm drifts down the line of my spine, slow and contemplative, as if he’s gathering resolve.
“Baby…” He begins carefully. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have interfered with your job offers and…I’m sorry.”
There’s no edge, no justification, no scrambling to make it sound less than it was. He’s taking full ownership of his actions.
I shift in his lap so I can look at him, one leg curling over his, my hand pressing against his bare chest.
“It wasn’t the right thing to do,” I agree. “And it can’t be like that moving forward.” My tone is even, not punitive. “I need to know you’ll respect my choices, even when they scare you.”
His jaw flexes, just a little. He takes it in as his thumb circles the back of my shoulder, a wordless request to stay here long enough for the conversation he owes me.
“But I know I made it harder,” I admit. “I kept it from you because I was scared of how you’d react, and that wasn’t fair... I’m sorry for that too.”
My fingers spread over his sternum, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath my palm. “I accept your apology. We will be okay.”
Relief spreads through his body in a subtle release of tension, his shoulders easing, his hand at my back loosening as though some internal knot has been undone.
“I’ll fix it,” he promises after a second. “I’ll arrange for you to have your job in London back.” His hand comes up, cupping my cheek gently, his thumb sweeping over the faint salt track of where earlier tears have dried.
“Thank you, but it’s not necessary,” I tell him. I lift my left hand slightly, the ruby catching the afternoon light. “I’ve made my decision.”
His eyes flicker from the ring back to my face.
“I’m moving to New York,” I say. The words come out so easy now. “I want to build a life with you. I don’t want to be apart from you.”
He hums, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Would your answer change if I told you we didn’t have to be apart even if you go to London?”
My brows knit. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “What if I moved to London with you?”
I blink. “Nathaniel…”
He continues before I can find the right protest. “I’ve spent so long trying to pull you into my life that I forgot we could create our own,” he says quietly. “One that belongs to both of us.”
