Congratulations, I Still Hate You

16

"I have a suggestion," she opens as she reaches for her glass.

I reach for mine and wait, hoping there's something to drink to.

"I've never had a real date with you before, not like this, without pretenses or obligation.  I'd like to know what that feels like."

I lean forward, nearly knocking my glass over as my hand shoots across the table towards hers.  

"We can have endless dates for the rest of our lives.  This doesn't have to be the first and the last, but that all depends on you." 

The soft warm glow of the white bulb lights strung up all through the room makes her eyes sparkle, though my brain interprets it as a mischievous glint instead.  My eyes never leave hers, but I can see that she's lifting her hand from her lap.  When I feel her place her warm, soft hand in mine, every muscle in my body relaxes.  

"I'd like that," she says softly.  "But on one condition."

"Anything."

"You actually show up to meet my parents this time."

"Done," I answer with a squeeze to her hand.  "Name the date and place and-"

"How's tonight?" she interjects.

Nothing in her expression or tone implies any cheeky or joking manner.  Now I'm nervous.

"Tonight?  How's that possible?  They're a few hours away, aren't they?"

"They came to visit this weekend.  When you showed up...and after I read what you wrote...I asked them to stay one more night."

The fact that she's looking at me with an almost pleading, hopeful expression hurts.  She still isn't sure if I'm as serious as I've said I am, and she's silently begging me not to disappoint her.  It's never been clearer just how much I have to make up to her.

"I'd love to meet them.  I just didn't realise they were here, and I'm a little worried that they'll hate me.  They have every reason to."

She shakes her head.  "They don't know anything.  The night you didn't show up, I told them something had come up with your father."

"And all this time between then and now?"

She gives a little shrug of one beautiful, bare, freckled shoulder.  "You've had a rough few months.  I've told a few white lies.  Therapy, legal things to settle with the estate, projects at the manor," she trails off.

"They never knew we weren't together?"

She shakes her head and gives a "nope" and sheepishly accentuates the "p".  All along, I'd pegged this woman for some pure white angel who didn't have a scheming bone in her body.  I'd thought her incapable of something I'd have no problem doing myself.

"Oh God, you think I'm such a liar now, don't you?  You think badly of me."

Before I know it, I'm rising and taking her hand with me as I round the table.  I'm coming for her the way she'd come for me at the pond, only we're both on the same page now.  Somehow she pushes her chair back and gets to her feet as I crash into her.  We don't care that there are others in the room.  We don't care about anything else.

I kiss her as I've never kissed anyone before in my entire life - even her.  And it isn't a kiss meant for public viewing.  It's hands and fistfuls of hair and tongues and moans and groping, and when we finally come to our senses and remember where we are, I immediately drop to a knee and fish for the object I've so carefully tucked away in my inner jacket pocket.  

While she swipes at her lipstick with a thumb, I'm extracting the ring she'd once left at my home.  I hadn't been certain that tonight was the right moment but now I'm positive it is.  When she sees the ring between my fingers and thumb, it's confirmed.  

"I tell you I lied to my parents and you propose," she chuckles, shaking her head.

"It's the sexiest thing anyone's ever done for me.  I'm not letting you out of this room until you say yes."

She tilts her head to the side and flashes a playful smile down at me.  

"What exactly am I saying yes to?"

"You're saying yes to spending each of your remaining days with me.  You're saying yes to giving me the family I never knew I wanted, and yes putting up with my shit.  Yes to never giving up on me, and yes to being there until the end.  Yes to only me for the rest of your life."

It feels like everything has gone quiet in the room but I don't look around us.  I watch as her eyes brim with tears and wait for her response.

She's grappling with her emotions and trying not to cry.  When she asks what she gets in return, her voice cracks.  Mine does too as I answer.

"I'm saying yes to spending each of my remaining days with you.  I'm saying yes to giving you the family I hope you'll want, and I'm saying yes to putting up with your shit.  I'm saying yes to being there until the end with you, and it being only you for the rest of my life."

"And never giving up on me," she corrects, pointing out one I'd missed.

"I'm saying yes to never giving up on you."  

I position the ring at the tip of her finger and say the magic words.  Will...you...marry...me.  I pause between each word, savoring the moment for as long as I can stretch it out.  

In the seconds it takes for her to answer, I've already felt a newborn's fingers closing around one of mine. I've already slid a gold band over her finger, twirled her hair around my finger, and wet my fingers inside her. I can see my entire future and it's a completely blank canvas - except for her. Wherever she wants to go, whatever she wants to do, so long as I'm there with her, I don't care.  

"Yes," she nods and stiffens her finger, making it easier for me to slide it on.  

After I stand and bend to embrace her, the soft sounds of gentle clapping begin.  She buries her nose in my neck.  In her ear, I ask if she wants a nicer ring.  I hear a definitive no and move quickly to the next question before I release her.

"Thirty days from now?"

"Thirty days," is her muffled reply.  

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I squeeze her tighter and steal one more kiss before I help her back into her chair.  By the time I'm seated, she's using her napkin to wipe beneath her eyes.  Once she's finished, I raise my glass and wait for her to do the same.

"To my future wife."

"Husband," she smirks as she clinks the rim of her glass to mine.  "That's going to take some getting used to."

"No, I think me not letting you come up for air for a few days is going to take some getting used to."

"First, my parents," she warns, setting her glass aside.

"Right, the in-laws."

I convey that I'm only teasing with my reluctant tone and then she tosses the napkin at me.  

Ahhh, my future Mrs. Malfoy.  I think I'm going to enjoy being bossed around by you.