He wrapped his arm around me and his thumb gently stroked my side. We stared out at the city skyline, its lights sparkling against a black, moonless sky.
“I’m excited to build a warm, comfortable home with the man you are now,” I said, turning to press my lips to his shoulder.
He turned to face me, his gaze intent as it washed over my face as if he had never seen me before. My heart swelled as I looked back up at him.
“I can’t wait,” he whispered. “But I think we should make one more memory here…”
I gasped as I watched him get down on one knee. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small, black velvet box. He carefully pried the lid open, but my eyes were on him and him only.
“Gabriella Harold. I went from wanting you out of my life to not knowing how to live without you. I love you with every stubborn part of me. Will you marry me?”
Through tears, I stammered yes, kneeling on the floor in front of him and kissing him repeatedly, before he slid a perfect, solitaire diamond on my finger.
Chapter 60
Chandler
“That’s the last of it,” I said, heaving a box markeddisheson the white kitchen counter and sliding it toward the tiled backsplash, the contents clinking together lightly in the box. I leaned against the counter and wiped sweat from my brow, looking over at Gabriella, who stood across from me on the edge of the counter, while she carefully unpacked glasses into the upper cabinet. How she had managed to get up there was a miracle with her about to pop.
“It’s really coming together,” she said, looking around the house with its rich, brick walls and warm wood floors. It really wasn’t coming together at all, besides the furniture mostly being in place, as everything still needed to be unwrapped from the plastic that wrapped around them like mummies. There were boxes strewn all over the place, their flaps open and waiting to be unpacked. But still, to me, it felt like it was because we were officially moved into our new home. The home where we would raise our daughter.
I raised a questioning brow as I looked around the downstairs. My intimidation must have shown on my face because Gabriella laughed softly and lifted her hand, curling a finger toward her in silent invitation. I strode over and settled between her legs, as close as I could get without squishing her protruding belly. I placed my large hands on each of her legs, my thumbs stroking her through the thin fabric of her leggings.
“We’ve got this,” she whispered, tilting her head up and planting a kiss on the tip of my nose.
“I know we do,” I whispered back, before leaning in and gently kissing her on the lips.
“Now, let’s finish this kitchen,” she said. “I’m hungry!”
“Is that the reason why this is the first room we are unpacking?” I chuckled.
“Of course. I need some eggs and bacon in the new house.” She smiled.
As she continued unpacking glasses, I went in search of our pots and pans. Our fridge was already stocked, thanks to the grocery order I had placed early that morning. I found the box of pots and pans just outside the entryway of the kitchen, and grabbed two frying pans. Soon, the smell of butter and eggs and bacon wafted through the place. Our very first meal. There were to be many more firsts here.
I plated eggs, bacon, and toast that I had warmed up in the pan of leftover bacon grease because I couldn’t find the toaster yet. Now that I had tried bacon-coated toast, I wasn’t sure if I would ever reach for the toaster again. I helped Gabriella off the counter ledge and eased her to the floor, where we set up a makeshift picnic with dishtowels, cups, plates, and chopsticks because somehow the silverware was nowhere to be found. It must have been with the toaster in nowhere land.
“I’ve never eaten bacon with chopsticks before,” she said, carefully picking up a piece and taking a bite.
“Or eggs for that matter,” I said, struggling to pick up the squishy yellow substance between two sticks. I finally was able to grab a piece and popped it in my mouth, all while Gabriella looked at me with amusement. She looked beautiful as the morning light poured in through the window behind her, almost making her look angelic.
Just then, the light caught on her ring, which made me suck in a breath. I still wasn’t over the fact that she wore that ring on her finger.Thatfinger. Asking her to marry me was the easiest decision I had ever made, and I usually weighed and calculated every major life decision for an annoying length of time. But with her, it was easy. I loved her.
I had called my mother to join me in ring shopping, and she squealed so loudly through the phone that I had thought I might go deaf. She was at my place within thirty minutes, waiting down at the curb to not raise any suspicions from Gabriella, who wasworking from home. I had told her I had a meeting, but instead my mother and I took a cab to my jeweler on 5thAvenue.
We spent hours perusing the glass cases lined with plush teal velvet, its contents sparkling under the lights that made everything look even more luxurious. I finally stopped at a case with an oval diamond that stood out among the rest, its facets glittering like the New York skyline that Gabriella was so fond of in the evenings.
“That one,” I said confidently, pointing at it through the glass as my mother let out an audible gasp.
“That’s it. That’s the one,” she said, grabbing my arm excitedly.
It was perfect in its undeniable, yet subtle beauty, with a simple band, letting the diamond steal the show. It was Gabriella in her effortless beauty and strength, because a stone like that wasn’t formed easily. It now sat on her finger, a testament to her and my love for her.
“I wonder if I will ever get used to this,” said Gabriella, following my gaze as she lifted up her finger, the diamond sparkling even more in direct sunlight, casting rainbow prisms across her face.
“Do you like it?” I asked with bated breath.
“Chandler, it’s the most beautiful ring I have ever seen. But you could have proposed to me with a chopstick wrapper tied around my finger and I would have said yes.” She smiled.
