“Don’t bet on it,” I answered.
Josh tilted his head and shot me a look that said he didn’t appreciate the comment.
Too fucking bad. He’d just treated one of the most important moments of our life like it was another item to be checked off his pre-deployment checklist.
“Weigh in for me,” Morgan drawled, crossing her arms as Will caught up to her.
“Morgan,” he warned.
“Oh, come on, Will. My feelings for you are the worst-kept secret since Paisley’s for Jagger. I think we can all be honest here.”
Josh edged away. “Not sure this is our place.”
“Oh, no you don’t, Walker.” Morgan stared him down. “Tell me, if you had feelings for someone, wouldn’t you want to be with them? Even if they only had a couple months before they deployed?”
“Actually—” Josh started.
“Damn it, Morgan! I’ll be gone nine months. You want to start a relationship like that?” Apparently Will’s drawl was a bit more pronounced when he got mad.
Fascinating.
“It’s not like this is World War Two, Will! We can Skype, and write letters, and talk on the phone. Do you think I won’t wait for you? Is that it?” Morgan fired back.
Holy shit. Josh couldn’t have thought that…or could he?
“Is that the real reason?” I asked Josh, not caring that we’d just turned this into a melee. “Are you scared I won’t wait for you? That I don’t love you enough, so a ring will keep me around?”
Josh rubbed his hands over his face. “We are not doing this right now.”
“Wouldn’t you want whatever time you could get?” Morgan yelled at Will.
Enough.
“You know what?” I said, turning toward Morgan and away from Josh. “I’m with Will. If you have feelings for him, then talk during the deployment, be there for him, show him the woman you’ve grown to be. Don’t jump into a relationship because you think you’re on some stupid timeline.”
Her eyebrows shot to the sky.
“Yeah, I think I’m going to head home for the night,” Will drawled.
“You should take Josh with you,” I called over my shoulder as I stomped into our house, shutting the door with enough force to declare me a tantrum-throwing toddler. My clothes hit the hamper while I muttered to myself about the idiocy of men.
The bed was cold as I crawled under the covers. Get used to it. He’ll be gone in ten days.
It hit me. Ten days. We had milk that expired later than that, and it was all I had guaranteed with him. Anything could happen after that. Ten days, and I’d just thrown his proposal in his face and declared it not good enough.
“You’re such a bitch,” I cried to myself as the tears started to flow. Why couldn’t anything be simple? Why couldn’t we get engaged and then marry in a year after bickering over wedding details? Why couldn’t we have just a tiny piece of normal?
Did it really matter if I said, “I do,” in front of a hundred other people? Did it matter if it was now or in a year from now? I wasn’t going to somehow stop loving him. He was woven into my soul so deeply that if someone were to pull a single thread of him away, I would unravel.
The door opened softly, light throwing my shadow onto the far wall. Josh was nearly silent as he stripped down for bed, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. How could I have done that to him? Sure, his logic was flawed, but wanting to marry me? That wasn’t only timing forcing the issue. It couldn’t have been.
The bed sank under his weight as he took his spot, the one closest to the door. We laid there in silence, the argument between us so raw that even the softest touch in the wrong way could set us both to bleeding.
But I had to make this right. I turned over and burrowed into his chest, startling him for the barest of seconds before his strong arms closed around me. I pressed a kiss to the fire and ice tattoo above his heart. “I’m so sorry,” I said softly into his skin. “Josh, I’m just so sorry.”
“Shh,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I fucked up something that was supposed to be un-fuck-up-able.”
I tilted my head until I caught the moonlight reflected in his eyes. “I was stupid, Josh. It doesn’t matter what the timing is. You and I are a foregone conclusion. You’re it for me, and I don’t need a ring on my finger to remind me of that. But I do want to marry you, I promise. There’s nothing I want more in this world than to be your wife.” I took a stuttering breath. “Ask me again.”