Page 92 of Handcuffed to the Gargoyle

“Yeah, but we can cohabitate in two places, which is basically what we’re doing now,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows, thinking that over. “It’s just… so stupidly expensive, though, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “If I buy this place, my monthly expenditure should go down. We total it up and split it in half, and we’ll still both be paying less than we are now.”

She brightened. “Really?”

“And, you know, it might be a good idea to have a place in Shepherdstown, because the schools are better there? So, when we have kids, we can enroll them there since we’ll actually live there.”

“Oh, that’s a really good point,” she said, brightening even more. “Let’s do it.”

“Cool,” he said.

So, they did.

And in a later conversation, he said that even though she said that he needed to do legwork on his own, his research had led him to conclude that they needed to go ring shopping together, because he was not going to pick the right thing on his own. She admitted this was probably true.

So, they did that, too.

And then she knew he was buying it, and she demanded he give it to her right away, and he said he still hadn’t figured out the proposal thing, and she said they could do that later, to give her the ring.

Which meant, well, there wasn’t a proposal, not like that, something he said was her fault and something she said she would never forgive him for.

But when they were sitting together in her tiny apartment, his wings taking up half of the room, her body tucked against his larger one, she would hold out her hand and look at that ring, turn it this way and that and let it glitter in the light, and she would feel a strange feeling, a feeling she almost never felt, a feeling that, well, things in the future were going to go well, that she was going to be happy, and that everything was going to work out.

“I love you,” she would tell him, looking up at him with affection.

“You love that ring,” he would say.

“That, too,” she would say, snuggling closer. “I really love the ring.”

“Good, because now that it’s on your finger, it means I staked my claim, and you’re mine.”

She would giggle, feeling a surge of excitement all through her. “Yes, sir. Yours.”

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