Pieces of You(82)

I squeeze him tighter and he finally bends down a little to wrap his arms around my waist. He pulls me flush against him and I sigh as I breathe in the scent on his collar. He buries his face in my neck and takes a deep breath, then his lips are on my skin, warm and inviting. He opens his mouth to softly bite my neck and I moan.

“Adam.”

His lips graze the curve of my jaw until they land on my mouth. I know I should stop this, but I can’t. I want the heat of his mouth on mine. I want to feel how much he needs me.

I clutch handfuls of his hair as our mouths move together, tasting each other for the first time in four weeks. He tightens his hold on my waist before he lifts me off the floor and sits me on the counter. The box of macaroni topples over onto the floor, but the clatter of dry pasta doesn’t deter us. He spreads my legs and slides me forward on the counter as he kisses me firmly. Then suddenly he stops.

He shakes his head as he steps back. “I’m gonna go to my room so I don’t have to watch you leave,” he says as he takes my hand and places the ring in my palm. “Just keep this and call me when you make up your mind.” He kisses my forehead, then my temple. “I love you.”

I close my eyes as he walks away and wait a moment, until I’m sure he’s in his room, before I slide off the counter. I look at the ring for a moment and notice the words engraved on the inner surface of the silver band: Olive you forever.

I feel numb inside and out as I tuck the ring into the pocket of my jacket. I leave the apartment and close the front door softly. Staring at the doorknob for a moment, I consider going back inside and asking him to put the ring on my finger.

But Jackie is right. I need to focus on school for a while.

I turn away from the door and begin the slow, painful descent down the stairs. I’ve only managed a few steps when a flash of headlights stops me. Then a black Porsche pulls into the parking lot and stops a few feet from the bottom of the stairs.

Through the driver’s side window, I glimpse the back of Tristan’s head. Then the passenger door flings open. Chris steps out of the car, grabbing the top of the door to pull himself up. I rush down the last few steps to help him out of the car. He slams the car door shut just as I make it to him.

“Where are your crutches?”

His eyes burn into me. “You’re my crutch.” He grabs my left hand, but his eyes never leave mine. “You asked me why I told my mom we were engaged.” My heart hammers against my chest as he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small, black box. “She found this a few months after we broke up and she threw a fit because she thought I had already moved on with someone else. I was too ashamed to admit to her that I bought the ring a month after we broke up. So I told her that we were engaged and you never wore the ring because you were afraid people would judge you for being engaged at nineteen.”

He opens the box and I have to blink a few times to believe what I’m seeing.

“Oh, my God,” I whisper as I shake my head.

He takes the ring out of the box and places the box on top of the car. “You know I would get down on my knee if I could,” he says with a smile as he takes my hand again. “I used to lie awake at night, when we were together, and I’d imagine this moment, but I never imagined it like this. Please forgive me for doing this here.”

“Chris, please—”

“Just hear me out,” he responds quickly as he rubs his thumb over the top of my hand. He’s nervous. “Since the day we met, when you insisted you weren’t going to fuck me, you’ve captivated me.” I chuckle, but his smile disappears as he continues. “The year we spent apart was the worst year of my life. The years we were together were the best. Your face and your words are entangled in every one of my happiest memories. You’re a part of me that I can’t let go. I refuse to let go. I’m not myself without you.” His eyes are full of such intensity and pain, but there’s also a dim spark of hope. “We don’t have to get married anytime soon. We can wait until you graduate or longer, if that’s what you want. I just want you to be mine and I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you, to love you and to take care of you. I want to sing you to sleep every night and wake up with you in my arms every morning.” He pulls my hand up and lays a soft kiss on my ring finger. “Claire Brooklyn Nixon, will you marry me?”

I close my eyes and draw in a long breath that smells like the ocean and Chris. He said my face and words are entangled in all his happiest memories, but my happiest memories are filled with everything from his face and words to his scent and the comforting sense of home. If this past week with Chris has taught me anything, it’s that Chris and I have an unshakeable bond. Even if we break up, we will always share the kind of love that I’m not sure I’ll ever find again without him.