Page 113 of No Place Like You

“Yeah, but I’ll always one up you in that department,” I say smugly. “Technically.”

He looks up at me, the blanket pulled up to his stomach, where he’s settled in under the sheets. “Oh, really,” he taunts. “So it’s a little competition now.”

“Absolutely.” I dip my feet under the blankets first, and the rest of me follows. Dexter flinches a little when my cold toes touch his legs, but it’s followed by a forceful tug of my waist to him.

“I bet the baby will call me ‘uncle’ before he or she calls you ‘aunty.’”

“That’s a pretty risky wager for someone who isn’t technically an uncle.”

“I guess I’m pretty confident I’ll be a better uncle than you’ll be an aunt.”

My brow shoots up. “Okay, Mr. Cocky,” I answer, my lips pursed together in disapproval. “What are we wagering?”

He hums, putting on a show of thought and pondering. “We gotta make it big. Something worth the stakes.”

“Agreed,” I say, playing along. “How about a lifetime of foot massages?”

He shakes his head in disagreement. “No, something bigger.”

“What’s bigger than nightly foot massages?” I nudge my slowly warming feet into the groove behind his knee. “For a lifetime.”

He continues this contemplation, ruminating through all of his options, when he snaps his fingers. “I got it.”

I laugh. “What?”

“If this kid calls me ‘uncle’ first, you marry me.”

I laugh harder. “Seriously?”

His face doesn’t change into something lighter or playful. In fact, the seriousness in his eyes grows darker, making me wonder if there’s more to this little wager we’re tossing back and forth. “Yeah.” He says that single syllable, four-letter word like it carries something more than a far-off agreement to spend the rest of our lives together. “Marry me.”

“Like, if you win, right?”

He pauses before answering, his eyes lighting up with something that leans toward hope. “Or sooner.”

“Wait, what?”

He hops off the bed, leaving me equally confused and dumbfounded. After rummaging through his sock drawer, he returns to his soft, squishy spot next to me and unfolds his large palm to reveal a small velvet square box. The wires in my brain start to short-circuit. Is he showing me something? Maybe some sort of antique trinket that needs to be stored in a box that looks like something that may hold a ring? You know, for safekeeping? Maybe he found it on the ground. Yeah, that’s it. He found it outside on the sidewalk and inside is some expensive-looking jewelry, earrings or a broach, and he wants my help to find its owner.

“Dexter, what is this?” My trembling fingers reach for his hand, but I stop, unsure if it’s real. If maybe this is just a figment of my imagination and the thing in Dexter’s hand is nothing but a tube of ChapStick or my little claw clip I left at his bedside table. But even after I blink what feelslike a hundred times, it’s still there. The soft, fuzzy box lined with gold trim around the edges is still sitting in the middle of his open hand.

Dexter uses his free hand to pry it open slowly. The soft creaking of the hinges sounds louder than it actually is in our room filled with my messy heap of clothing on a blush-colored armchair and the pictures of our families lined up on our dresser. All pictures I’ve taken that he had printed and framed, filling our home with memories he never had before I moved in with him.

Inside the box is the most beautiful diamond ring I’ve ever seen. It’s round and simple, no big show of a cluster of diamonds or a thick, gaudy band that’ll look too flashy on my bare and unembellished hands. Just one really, really big rock showcasing how perfectly easy our love has been.

“I got this a month ago,” he says softly, watching my wide-eyed look of shock as I finally register what’s in front of me. “I didn’t plan some over-the-top proposal or anything. It didn’t really feel like…us. So I’ve been waiting for the right moment because…I guess being spontaneous with you made more sense.”

My eyes start to water. “Dexter, I…I, um?—”

“Marry me,” he repeats. “Tomorrow, next week, next year, I don’t care when. But be mine forever.”

“Really? I mean, are you sure?”

“Yes,” he answers with a laugh. “Of course I’m sure.”

“Like, you’ve thought this through? Maybe you should think about it some more. A pros and cons list can’t hurt.”

A sweet, shaky sigh slips through his lips that sounds like he’s exhaling a breath of fondness for my flustered state. “Lucy,” he says, tucking a finger under my chin to lift my face toward him. “Remember when you came back to the city? When you came to me in the hospital?”

“Yeah?” I answer with a shaky voice.

“The second I saw you in the hallway running toward me, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

A single tear trickles down my cheek, and Dexter swipes it away with his thumb. I smile at him, and he smiles back, causing us to sit in silence. I’m going to marry this man. He wants me for the rest of his life. “I guess you are going to be an uncle after all.”

“Is that a yes?” he asks, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

I laugh through my tears. “Yeah.”