“I love you, Sammie.”
She crinkled her nose at him. “I love you, too.”
“For what it’s worth, I’d take you home right this second if I could.”
She ribbed him. “I know. But we haven’t had a date for a while. We may as well make the best of it, right?”
“Right.”
* * *
After leaving the party in the wee hours of the morning, Nick and Sammie were tangled up in his sheets, basking in the sweet, silent afterglow of lots and lots of making up. She was lying on her side, staring out the window at the waning crescent moon, and he was lying pressed up against her back, staring at her.
He still couldn’t believe everything was okay again. That he’d committed one of the worst sins possible in a relationship—the unforgivable forgetting of the anniversary. And she’d forgiven him, happily, pleasantly, and unreservedly.
He promised to make it up to her, and about halfway through the evening, he figured out exactly how he was going to do it. And once he’d made the decision, he felt the need to do it immediately, since God only knew when he’d have another evening with her.
He was ill-equipped at that particular moment, which wasn’t ideal, but he felt that wasn’t the important thing.Shewas the important thing, and he needed her to know it.
And as he stared at her face, white and ethereal as it bathed in the moonlight, he just couldn’t help himself.
He threaded his arm around her waist and kissed the side of her neck, then spoke quietly into her ear.
“Will you marry me?”
A wide grin slowly drew across her face and after a second or two, she turned her head to face him. She stroked his hair and patted his face as she continued to grin.
“You don’t believe in marriage,” she reminded him.
“I didn’t believe in marriage,” he admitted. “But I believe in you, and I believe in us. And I believe I’m going to love you for the rest of my life. So now I do.”
Her eyes became the slightest bit misty and her chin trembled as she hesitated.
“Well?” he prompted, gripped with sudden anxiety.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” He growled playfully as he kissed her lips and tugged her over to lie closer to him, then grabbed his phone off the nightstand. “Let’s get you a ring.”
She laughed hysterically. “What! You’re going to buy me a ring on yourphone?”
“Well, all the jewelry stores are probably closed right now.”
She continued to laugh as he pulled up a website and began grilling her about diamond specs.
“What shape do you want?”
“Um,” she pondered. “I don’t know, round?”
“How big?”
“I don’t know. Any size I guess.”
“Sammie, you’re going to be wearing this thing for the rest of your life,” he explained. “It has to be exactly what you want so you have to pick a size.”
“Ehh.” She hesitated. “I don’t know. I feel weird picking the size. You pick.”
He feigned exasperation. “Fine. Three carats.”
