The Proposal
Page 29
She smiled.
“I wondered. And sort of hoped.” She took a deep breath. “Carlos, I’m still not sure if I know how to love someone, and I really don’t know if I know how to let myself be loved, so I hope you’ll be patient with me as I figure out how to do this. But I really love you so I hope you will be.”
“I will be as patient as you need me to, but I think you know how to love someone a lot better than you think,” he said.
She smiled at him and kissed him again.
“I really hope so,” she said. “I missed you so much, too. I kept trying to deny to myself how much I missed you, and how much a part of my life you’d become, and how important you were to me. And then when I realized it, it terrified me. I was so scared to feel this way. If we’re being honest, which I hope . . . ” she paused and closed her eyes for a moment. “Sorry, I just . . . ” He ran his fingers through her curls and waited for her to collect herself. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a second, sat up straight and started again. “If we’re being honest, which I hope we can always be to each other, I’m still scared to feel this way.” She laughed. “As if you hadn’t already noticed that.”
He kissed her cheek. He’d noticed. But he’d also noticed that, despite her fear, she was still here. Sitting next to him.
“And then I was scared that you wouldn’t still feel the same way. That I’d been right the first time, that it was all because of emotion and adrenaline and you’d realized you were better off without me.”
“You weren’t right the first time,” he said. “Even though I tried to convince myself you were.”
“Thank God for that,” she said.
“Thank God for that sour cream,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to be in debt to sour cream for the rest of my life. We can’t tell anyone that part of the story, it isn’t romantic at all. It couldn’t have been something sexier?”
“Like what? Eggplant? Hot dogs? Bananas?”
He laughed and pulled her against him.
“I was thinking, I don’t know, chilies, or bacon, or even your favorite rosé. But for this”—he gestured to the TV, the decorations, to Nik—“for you? I’d take anything.”
“See? That was so . . . ” She beamed at him, as tears ran down her face. “You’re much better at this romance stuff than I am.”
He wiped the tears away with his thumb and kissed her again.
“You’re doing great,” he said.
He looked around his house with a grin.
“I can’t believe this,” he said. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I can’t believe I pulled this all together at the last minute today, so you’d better appreciate it.”
And then he realized something.
“ANGELA.”
She leaned back against the couch cushions and laughed.
“Angela, indeed. She gave me the key and kept you away until I was all ready for you. I had to make my case to her first, though. Let me tell you, she was very suspicious when I called her this morning.”
That’s why they’d stayed at Jessie’s for so long.
“I bet she was. But she always liked you. Plus, she knew you were the reason I finally went to the doctor.”
She sat up with a jerk.
“You went to the doctor? Really?”
He gave her a tentative smile.
“I went yesterday.”
She threw her arms around him.
“Oh, Carlos, I know how hard that must have been for you. I’m so proud of you!”
He buried his nose in her hair. That coconut smell made him so happy.
“It was really hard. But I did it. And I’m okay. My cholesterol is a little high, but not anything my doctor is super worried about, so I’ll cut back the red meat and add more leafy greens and I should be able to manage it.”
She ran her hands through his hair.
“I am so glad to hear that. Oh! I have some news, too.”
He pulled back and looked at her, and she smiled.
“I punched Fisher in the face.”
He jumped up from the couch.
“You what? Oh my God.” He picked her up and swung her in a circle. “You are a superhero. What the fuck did that bastard do this time? I can’t wait to hear everything.”
She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers.
“He went down like a ton of bricks, it was amazing. My knuckles are still a little raw. I’m so sad you weren’t there to see it, but luckily, plenty of people walking and driving down my street did. He was so mad about that. It was so great.”
He sat back on the couch and pulled her down next to him.
“I love you so much.”
She beamed at him.
“I know.”
Jasmine Guillory is a graduate of Wellesley College and Stanford Law School. She is a Bay Area native who lives in Oakland, California. She has towering stacks of books in her living room, a cake recipe for every occasion, and upwards of fifty lipsticks. Visit her online at jasmineguillory.com and twitter.com/thebestjasmine.
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