couch, the lights on the tree hypnotizing as we watched Home Alone after dinner.
Everett got up, returning a minute later with my phone and an expression made of ice.
I took it from his outstretched hand and watched as he flopped into his seat at the end of the couch. He didn’t lift my feet to his lap again, and instead, he ran his hands through his hair, staring daggers at the TV.
I looked down at my phone and saw why.
Prince: Merry Christmas, beautiful. I’ll be back next week, and I think we should talk.
Hesitation held my fingers immobile over the screen. The feeling of eyes on me sizzling my already jumpy nerves.
Me: I’ll be home.
Even though there was so much I wanted to say, I let it go and locked my phone.
Everett’s eyes followed its journey to the floor, and I loathed the feeling that sending just a text message evoked. That slithering, scaly guilt.
After five more minutes, the tension drifting between us threatening to drown, I heaved myself off the couch and headed to bed.
I was pulling my pajama top down over my belly when Everett walked in, shut the door, and set my forgotten phone on my nightstand.
I pursed my lips. “You’re mad.”
“Understatement.”
I pulled the sheets back, taking a seat on the bed. “I’m not with him, Everett. And for the record, I’m not with you, either.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” he bit out, kicking off his boots.
“Excuse me?”
“I said, keep telling yourself that.”
“Fuck you.” I sent a finger at the door. “The couch is back that way.”
“I love you, Clover.” His words were low but soaked in feeling as he stood before me, tilting my chin up to his face. “I’m in deep, all yours, ruined from the inside out.” His grip firmed when I made to wrench away, and he sucked my gaze to his. “In a world hell-bent on destroying me, fate handed me you. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone fucking take you from me.”
The cool air turned warm, and I tore my eyes from his blazing ones. “Love isn’t everything. It’s not what I need from you.”
He fell to one knee, his hand reaching behind him. “I wasn’t going to do this until tomorrow, but no matter how long you leave me waiting, I need to do it now.” A velvet blue box popped open, revealing a platinum band pillowed among red inside.
“Everett.” The word was a warning and a wish, wrapped in one.
“You can keep holding me at arm’s length, or you can forgive me and let me love you the way I need to. The way I’m desperate to with every breath this life allows me to take. Eventually is ready and waiting for us, Clover. And though I’ll never feel as though I deserve you, I’m hoping like hell you’re ready to grasp it, so we can finally make it ours.”
This love, our love, it was an entity all on its own. It stalked us wherever we roamed; a living, breathing beast that wouldn’t rest until it won. Until it was just him and me, saddled in its unshakable, never-ending embrace.
Yet I couldn’t form one of the two words I needed to say. I couldn’t take one of the two options presented to me. All I could do was stare at the gleaming ring, at the possibility of a future that lay uncertain.
Would he leave again? Or had everything that’d happened with us, and to him, led him to this place where he could speak of forevers and mean it with every inch of his being?
I wasn’t sure. All I knew with certainty was that I was crumbling, my walls teetering and collapsing, one by one.
And still, I didn’t make a sound.
Well, hopefully my dad won’t curse up a storm when I tell him I got my sixth ticket for the year. I figure he’ll be okay when I tell him the story of how it led to meeting my future wife…
The memory of his voice impaled, sliced open everything I’d tried to keep contained, and ruined me.
“Clover? Fuck.” Everett set the box down on the nightstand, then climbed onto the bed and pulled me to his chest. “It’s okay.” He soothed, his fingers wiping at my wet cheeks. “You don’t need to answer me right now. But I had to ask, to take this step and make myself clear, that’s all. I need you to know what my intentions are.” He continued to swipe at my cheeks, speaking