“Hey big boy,” she slurs, and Tristan’s eyes sparkle with admiration looking down at his girlfriend. She’s so far gone it’s not even funny – eyes red and glassy, make up smudged, hair a mess…and goddamn she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Wanna take me home?” she whispers into his ear, the tips of her fingers dipping under the waist band of his jeans.
“You talk a real big game for someone who is just going to pass out the second we get in the car,” Tristan laughs, but Tessa’s face shows no humor.
“I will not!” she protests, sticking her lower lip out in a childlike pout.
“You wanna bet on it?” he asks, his smile smug and playful.
“Absolutely,” she answers. “What are we betting?”
“Hhhhmmm…” he takes a second to feign concentration before looking back down at her and saying. “Loser doesn’t get to come.”
Tessa’s eyes go wide and she swallows heavily, suddenly not feeling as confident as she was just a second ago.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Tristan asks, pulling her against his body. “Scared you’re gonna lose?”
“I’m not losing shit!” she says, trying to push away from him but only ends up stumbling backwards, to which his long arms catch her and pull her back in.
“Well let’s go then. Can’t wait to watch you lose.”
Tessa fell asleep within minutes.
Tristan cradled her sleepy, heavy body against his in the backseat of the SUV as it cruised smoothly down the Kansas City streets. The view of the night sky was breathtaking, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Tessa.
He sat staring at her as if she were a precious work of art that could disappear at any moment. He felt tears sting in his eyes but didn’t allow them to fall. Instead, he took a deep breath and tipped his head back against the seat, silently thanking whatever God had mercy on him and placed Tessa, literally and metaphorically, right in his lap.
All of the years he kept himself up at night thinking about her, wondering where she was, who she was with, if she was safe or happy, if some other guy had swept her off her feet, if she ever thought about him at all – it was all worth it to hold her in his arms again, but this time as a strong woman that he knew was the result of the years they spent apart. And as much as he hatedbeing away from her and as much as the heartbreak nearly killed him, it was all worth it to see who she is now.
When they got back home, Tristan carefully carried Tessa’s passed-out body inside and up the stairs, laying her carefully on her side of the bed. He removed her shoes and her clothes, all while her heavy limbs protested and she whined and groaned. His heart swelled with love and admiration. She was so cute and helpless in his arms, and he knew he would do anything to take care of her and make her happy, and that persistent feeling in his gut only grew stronger.
Leaving her safe and asleep in their bed, Tristan found his way back down to the living room and sat heavily on the couch before calling Jordan.
“Yo,” Jordan’s voice screams into the phone over the chaos in the background. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Tristan says quickly. “Can you come to my place though? I just really want to talk about what I said back at the club.”
Jordan was at Tristan’s house within 30 minutes, a mess of wrappers of McDonalds burgers the only evidence that food was ever here, and a beer in each hand.
“I don’t want to scare her away,” Tristan says. “But I can’t let this go. I need to marry her, Jordan. But she has a history of being flighty and unsure. What if it just makes her run?”
“Then she’s not the one, Trist,” Jordan says bluntly. “If you propose and she says no and runs then she’s not it for you.”
Tristan’s body deflates and he closes his eyes, willing the tears to stay put.
“But here’s the thing, Trist,” Jordan speaks again, and Tristan gathers the courage to look back at his brother. “She’s not going to run, I know it.”
Tristan’s heart accelerates quickly, and a smile nearly too big for his face shines brightly at his older brother.
“How soon can I get a ring?” Tristan says, frantically waving his hands around. “Can I get one, like, tomorrow?”
Jordan laughs and pats his brother’s knee.
“I suggest you don’t do that. You have the resources and money to work with someone to make something special, meaningful, and unique. A couple months of waiting won’t hurt while you get something made.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s true,” Tristan says, suddenly thinking of all the ways he could make the ring uniquely Tessa. Something about her and her style and her aura has always been so specific, and he was giddy at the thought of how many ways he could make a piece of jewelry so uniquely her.
“Damn, and then we have to plan a wedding, huh?” Tristan says. “I just want to marry her tomorrow. Do you think she’d be down to just legally get married and then do the big wedding and ring after?”
