Page 119 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
“F—ck.”
My heart leaps into my throat and my stomach churns violently. Fear bubbles up and I reach out and grab his arm, turning him back to me, to look at me, so I can see his face.
It’s pained. I burst into humiliating tears, but I clamp down even while the tears still fall, as anger surfaces to save me.
“Of course I’m happy about the baby. Because it’s yours—ours. But it’s been a shock. Can’t you understand that?”
He stares at my face for a long beat of my heart as his pain fades from his eyes, replaced by loving concern.
“You’re a volatile man,” I say, realizing I’m the pot calling the kettle black.
He raises an eyebrow, a small tug at one side of his mouth as if he’s agreeing with my unspoken assessment that I have no room to judge.
“I think we’ve both had a shock to our systems, though I concede yours is now likely riddled with hormones juicing you to irrational heights.”
“Have I told you that you have a way with words?”
Pulling me back into his magical embrace, I settle into him, feel the comfort, the excitement of his body and realize that’s what got us into this . . . shocking situation.
“How do you suppose it happened? He asks, his words mild as if he’s asking what I had for breakfast.
“I didn’t plan it if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m not trying to trap you—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m not wondering or accusing you of anything. It’s clear that you’re shocked by the pregnancy. I would never think you would do such a thing to trap me.” A playful smile takes over his face and I’m confused.
“What’s so funny? This is serious.”
“You are funny. Didn’t you know you had me the night we met? You never had any need to trap me.” He laughs then as if the notion is absurd and I feel myself pink up.
Itisabsurd. I’m ridiculous. I’m not myself. Again.
Or maybe I am. I’ve been fighting it, but just maybe I am a passionate irrational person at times. I definitely have a streak of both passion and practicality. They’re warring in me now.
“Melissa.” He’s using his serious-as-a-priest tone and I go still. “I’ve been saving this for an occasion sometime in the near future, but I feel overwhelmingly compelled to ask you now.”
He puts his two hands on my face, holding me and staring into my eyes as if I’m the most precious rarity on earth. My heart flutters, literally, and I feel slightly dizzy, but I hold onto him, wanting to, needing to hear what he has to say.
“Will you marry me? Soon. Like within the next few weeks. As soon as I get back from my trip to Italy?”
I open my mouth, the dizziness turns to wooziness, but I hear myself saying yes. Just before I black out.
* * *
Movingday doesn’t amount to much. I recovered enough from last night, with Lucas’s surprising nursing abilities—and his restorative lovemaking—to insist that we should still move today as planned. I have the same three bags I moved out of the same apartment with and one more. The idea makes me smile. Not a wide smile, but a start, I can feel it. Lucas shuts the trunk of his old Uber car and hauls all four bags to the front door of my old building. Our new building. He nods at Roy.
“How’s the car driving?”
“Sharp and fast. My wife thinks you’re a god who stepped off Mount Olympus. She wants to ditch me for you, so you won’t mind if I don’t introduce you.”
Lucas laughs and I give Roy my new customary hug. It’s hardier and no longer reserved for special occasions. No holding back even an ounce.
“Welcome back, Lissy.”
“Feels good to be back. Better than ever.”
“For good this time?”
I nod my head because I can’t talk with all the emotion clogging my throat like a ball of wet tissue.
