Us for Life - Feltson

Chapter 6

Tom drove the rest of the way back to the city. At least, he tried to. It was him who was behind the wheel when the back tire began to rattle and bang, flat. Relieved to no longer be driving on the edge of a cliff, he pulled to a stop on the side of the road, and reached across Emma, into the glove box for the key to the wheels.

"We're still not in the city. Who do we call to come all the way out here for us?" she said, her hand over he throat.

He smirked. "We don't call anyone. We put the spare on ourselves. I mean, I do it myself. But it's not safe for you to wait inside the car. Come stand outside, well out of traffic."

She squatted beside him, her hands full of shiny lug nuts, keeping them safe as he worked. "This is the most dad-like thing you've done all day," she said. "You tended to me when I was sick, made sure I ate, read me the weather forecast, and now this."

He glanced over his shoulder, grinning before turning to take one of the nuts back from her, about to wrench it into place on the wheel.

"It's almost like," she began, "like it's a sign. Isn't it? Like the universe is showing me what you're capable of, that I can trust myself to you."

"Trust, she says, after I've made her sick and stood her next to speeding traffic," he scoffed.

"Are you trying to convince me, or not?" she laughed.

He took the last nut from her hand, tapping it against the oversized silver ring still on her middle finger. "I am. But I don't care what the whole universe thinks of the question of the day. Only the part of the universe that's you."

"Well, signs like this just might be helping me decide. So be glad for them."

When he glanced at her again, she wasn't looking at him, but typing furiously at her phone.

"What're you up to now? Not making a social media post we'll be hounded about for the next ten years, are you?" he said as he stood up, leaning in to her to see her message.

"No, it's just my assistant," she answered, shutting off the screen, the lightness of her voice oddly strained.

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing in LA this week, Em? Every time I ask, you manage to change the subject."

She blinked sweetly. "I'm sure I don't," was all she said.

Most of rush hour had cleared away by the time they were on the freeway. Emma risked unclasping her seatbelt and moving close enough to rest her head on his shoulder. Tom tipped his head to rest his cheek on her hair for half a moment. "Aren't you darling? But this new dad-thing you've awakened in me today can't bear to see you with your seat belt off at 75 miles an hour."

She scoffed. "What's that in real speed?"

"About 120 kilometres an hour."

She hissed. "Oo, that is fast." With a sigh, she receded back into her seat, clicking her safety belt back in place. "I'm being foolish. This day is ending so soon. And even though it hasn't been perfect, I wish it would go on and on all the same." She laughed at herself. "See, I'm ridiculous."

Tom tried to smile along. If the day was ending, and it was making her melancholy, then that meant... 

He rolled his lips into a tight line, shifted in his seat. Someone who was about to accept an unexpected proposal couldn't be sad, could they? That kind of feeling would only come if they were approaching the end of something more than just a visit. Like, if they were approaching the end of -- of them.

He felt hot, pressed, mad and desperate. He reached out, grabbing at her hand and kissing it firmly as he drove. "You're not ridiculous. And you're not a fool. You don't have to trust me if you don't want to. Trust yourself."