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Ugly-Love
Hell and yes.
I lean forward and kiss her. Our legs and arms and mouths become two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together effortlessly. She winds up in my lap, straddling me in the cockpit of the airplane. It’s cramped and tight. It’s perfect. “I’m not a very good cook, though,” she warns. “And you do laundry way better than I do. I just throw all the whites and colors together. And you know I’m not very nice in the morning.” She’s holding my face, spouting off every warning she can, as if I don’t know what I’m getting myself into. “Listen, Tate,” I tell her. “I want your mess. I want your clothes on my bedroom floor. I want your toothbrush in my bathroom. I want your shoes in my closet. I want your mediocre leftovers in my fridge.” She laughs at that. “Oh, and I almost forgot,” I say, pulling the other box from my pocket. I hold it up between us and open it, revealing the ring. “I also want you in my future. Forever.” Her mouth is open in shock, and she’s staring at the ring. She’s frozen. I hope she doesn’t have doubts, because I have absolutely none when it comes to wanting to spend the rest of my life with her. I know it’s only been six months, but when you know, you know. Her silence makes me nervous, so I quickly remove the ring and pick up her hand. “Will you break rule number two with me, Tate? Because I really want to marry you.” She doesn’t even have to say yes. Her tears and her kiss and her laugh say it for her. She pulls back and looks at me with so much love and appreciation it makes my chest hurt. She’s absolutely beautiful. Her hope is beautiful. The smile on her face is beautiful. The tears streaming down her cheeks are beautiful. Her love is beautiful. She exhales a soft breath and leans in slowly, gently pressing her lips to mine. Her kiss is filled with tenderness and affection and an unspoken promise that she’s mine now. Forever. “Miles,” she whispers against my mouth, teasing my lips with hers. “I’ve never made love in an airplane before.” A smile immediately forms on my lips. It’s as if she somehow infiltrated my thoughts. “I’ve never made love to my fiancée before,” I say in response. Her hands slowly slide down my neck and shirt until her fingers meet the button on my jeans. “Well, I think we need to rectify that,” she says, ending her sentence with a kiss. When her mouth meets mine again, it’s as if every last piece of my armor disintegrates and every last piece of ice surrounding the glacier that was my heart melts and evaporates. Whoever coined the phrase, I love you to death obviously never experienced the kind of love Tate and I share. If that were the case, the phrase would be I love you to life. Because that’s exactly what Tate did. She loved me back to life. The end. EPILOGUE I think back to the day I married her. It was one of the best days of my life. I remember standing next to Ian and Corbin at the end of the aisle. We were waiting for her to walk through the doors when Corbin leaned over and whispered something to me. He said, “You’re the only one who could have ever met my standards for her, Miles. I’m happy it’s you.” I was happy it was me, too. That was more than two years ago, and every day since then, I’ve somehow fallen in love with her a little bit more. Or flew, rather. I didn’t cry the day I married her, though. Her tears were falling falling falling that day, but mine weren’t. I was convinced they never would. Not in the way I wished they could. It was eight months ago when we found out we were having a baby. We weren’t trying to have a baby, but we also weren’t not trying. |
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