Theproblem with this ability, other than the inability to control it, is that Ican only read whatever they show me. I don’t always know what it means, or whatthey want, and that was very much the case in this situation.
“Fuck,”I cried, throwing my head back against the couch.
Vinniestirred beside me. “Andy,” he rasped, and I imagined not hearing that nameagain. The name only he called me. A quick pinch of death tore violently at myheart and my body shook with a sob.
“Sweetheart,”he said with urgency, sliding off the couch to sit beside me on the floor. Hegathered my face in his hands and kissed the salty tears from my cheeks. “Andy,sweetheart, why are you crying? What happened?”
“Ify-you die, I'll die,” I cried, pressing my forehead to his and grasping hist-shirt in my fists. “I don't want to die. Not yet. So, you can't die, baby.P-Please, don't die.”
Hiseyes, so full of life, found mine. “Sweetheart, why ... why do you keep sayingthis shit?”
“I'mjust so, s-so scared,” I whispered, sobbing and squeezing my eyes shut againstanother torrent of tears.
“Stop,okay? Just stop,” he said, soothing me with his voice and gentle fingersthrough my hair. “We're okay. We're always going to be okay.”
Iforced myself to nod. “I just l-love you s-so fucking much,” I said, moving myhands from his shirt to his cheeks. “I want this forever. I want you forever.”
“Yougot me, sweetheart,” he replied, pressing kiss after kiss to my lips andcheeks.
“Then...” I grasped his face, his hair, his neck, and I looked into his eyes,remembering so vividly the image of him dead. I didn't know what it meant. Ifit meant he had to die, I didn't know if I could save him. But what I could do,was love him and love him hard, for however long we had together. “Then ...then, let's get married.”
“Wait,”he said, pulling back. His brows drew together, as he narrowed his eyes. “Areyou serious right now?”
“I'venever been more serious about anything in my life,” I said, wrapping my armsaround his neck and moving into his lap. “Please, baby, marry me.”
Hisarms circled my waist as the bright, rosy hue of happiness pinched at hischeeks. “I don't think your family would approve,” he said, his voice gruff aslaughter filled his tone.
“Idon't care. I don’t care about them. All that matters isweapprove. Youand me. We don't need anyone else.”
Vinniepulled in a deep inhale, then very slowly exhaled and I relished in knowingthat he was still here with me—alive. When he nodded his reply, I tightened myhold on his neck and buried my face against his shoulder.
“Youand me, baby,” I said, my voice muffled by his skin.
“Yeah,”he said, kissing my neck, ear, and hair. “Let's do this.”
***
“You're,what?” Mom exclaimed into the phone.
Ihad called my parents the next day to invite them to our wedding--a casual,impromptu thing at an arboretum on Long Island. I didn't expect them to attendbut Vinnie had convinced me to extend the invitation. I knew it was the rightthing to do but that didn't help how difficult it was to have the conversation.
“Um,”I chewed my bottom lip, staring at the cracked sidewalk. “We're getting marriedthis weekend.”
Hermoment of hesitation spoke volumes. “Andrea ... don't you think you're rushingthings right now?”
“Youwere with Daddy for only two months before he asked you to marry him,” Ipointed out quickly.
“Butwe waited a year to get married after he proposed,” she replied, her voiceshrill. “Why not wait a while to be sure?”
“I'mthirty years old, and he's thirty-four. How long would you really like us towait?
“Well,let me ask you this, then: what's the rush? Are you—wait, are you pregnant?”
Igroaned, massaging my temple with my fingertips. “No, Mom,” I sighed. “Notpregnant. We're just sure this is what we want, that's all. So, can we expectyou there?”
Shesighed, her exasperation evident. “Well, I don't know. I mean, I guess so. ButI just really wish you'd think about this—”
“Okay.I'll text you the details. Love you, bye.”
