Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“But you’re not,” I rush to assure him. “You’ve done more than—”
“Did you even hear what I just said, Regan?” he cuts in over me. “You’re the woman I love.”
I blink a moment, then hesitantly drawl, “Yes. I heard that. You’ve known me forever. Of course you love me.”
“Jesus,” he mutters in frustration. Then, somehow, he’s right in front of me. His hands go to my shoulders and he gives me the tiniest of shakes as if it’s needed to clear the cobwebs from my head. “I don’t love you as a fucking friend. Well, wait… I do. But I love you as more. I am in love with you. Like my heart is fucking gone. It belongs just to you, and it will never belong anywhere else again. So that’s why things are scary and terrifying. I don’t want to lose you. I’ve just now entered into a life that has become the happiest I’ve ever been. It adds so much promise to my future because I have you, and I don’t want to lose it. I want to be a husband to you for real. For the long haul. I want to have children—assuming you can with your condition—and if not, we’ll adopt. I just know I want my life to be with you forever. So yes, I’m scared. Yes, I’m frustrated. Yes, I’ll probably always be that way, but I’ll learn to be strong and supportive about it. I’m sorry you overheard that, but if this is what’s come out of it… a talk about our feelings, then I’m glad you eavesdropped.”
I just stare at him.
“Which is never really cool to do by the way,” he adds.
My brain swims as I replay the words he just spoke. I get a little dizzy, pulling away from him to sink down onto the edge of the couch.
Dax stands there, hands loose at his side, and watches me warily. “Are you okay?”
I nod dumbly. He loves me? Like really loves me? Wants to be married for real? Kids?
Holy shit. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more stunned in my life. Not even when I got my PNH diagnosis.
“Regan,” he asks again, taking a step toward me. “Are you okay?”
I nod slowly, my voice thick. “Just a little overwhelmed.”
Dax’s lips curve upward, his eyes twinkling.
He reaches into his front pocket, pulls something out, then drops to one knee before me. My vision actually blurs, my head spinning.
“You’re about to be a little more overwhelmed,” he says as he opens up a royal-blue velvet ring box.
My head stops spinning, and my eyes focus with utter clarity on the contents inside.
Three rings.
An engagement ring. A huge, emerald-cut diamond that’s bigger than any I’ve ever seen before in my life.
But that’s not what has my heart squeezing and my eyes misting.
It’s the two wedding rings beside it. A woman’s ring crusted with diamonds, along with a man’s ring—platinum, thick, and masculine.
A complete set of wedding rings for us.
Tears start slipping down my cheeks, and I don’t even bother to try to blink them back. Something tells me they’ll just keep coming.
My gaze lifts. Dax is staring at me, and I finally see it.
The truth of all those words he just said.
He loves me.
Like really, truly loves me.
I launch myself off the couch, slamming right into his chest I propel us backward onto the carpet. He lands flat on his back with me on top of him, then I’m kissing him. Dax is laughing into my mouth, his arms banding around me tightly.
When I lift my head to stare down at him, I finally take stock of the incredibly overwhelming flash of pure joy that fills me. It’s without a doubt the best feeling I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing in my life.
“I love you,” I say simply. It’s all I have to offer at this moment. He skipped a mandatory practice and set up a romantic meal to propose to me. Yes, to propose we spend our lives together. I had come home with the thought I was going to end things.
Nothing is what I expected, and I feel almost small in my appreciation of the wonders of this universe and what it can bestow upon me.
“So you ready to do this marriage thing for real?” he asks with a grin, holding up the box which has somehow shut when I knocked him backward.
My head jackhammers into a furious nod, and I push up to straddle him. Dax smiles from his position flat on his back, then holds the box up to reopen it. He pulls out the wedding band first. “I believe tradition is that this goes on first as it should be held closest to your heart.”
I didn’t know that, but it’s so sweet. He sets the box on his chest, then takes my left hand and slides the band onto my ring finger.