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“I... don’t know what to say.” I've never been given a gift of this magnitude, and I don't even know what the appropriate response is.
“You don't have to say anything.” Clifton smiles gently. “About that at least. I do have something else to talk to you about.”
Given that my entire world has turned upside down from the last thing we talked about, I'm not sure I can handle something else. I watch Clifton gesture toward the last bouquet of flowers he brought in. He'd placed them on the coffee table directly in front of us.
“You didn't read the card,” he says, sounding playfully hurt and possibly offended.
Watching him out of the corner of my eyes, I reach out and pick up the heavy card. They don't appear to be words on this one, but I flip it over to see what's weighing it down.
On the other side is a rose gold ring with a huge stone. Metal flower petals surround the stone, making it look like a beautiful flower and my jaw drops. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.
Clifton stands up and pulls me into a hug, speaking softly into my ear. “Emma, I love you. I know that if I don’t try to make amends and ask you to spend your life with me, I’ll forever regret that. So I’m asking you - and if the answer is no, I deserve that for how much I’ve hurt you. But will you marry me?”
I pull back to look him in the eyes, worried he’s joking or messing with me or that this is some kind of prank. But he looks serious and genuine and maybe a little bit afraid.
Standing in my apartment surrounded by flowers, I realize that the man that I love just asked me to marry him.
I glance down at the ring.
He continues speaking. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to grow old with you. I want to be with you until my last heartbeat, my last breath. You make me happy.”
Emotions crash over me, disbelief, excitement, joy, fear, and overwhelmingly, love. I love this man, and I want to spend forever with him. Not because of the firm, or because of the flowers. Because this man is the kindest, most annoying criminal I’ve ever met. But he’s my criminal.
“I will marry you on one condition,” I say softly.
I sense the lawyer in him perk up and start listening carefully as he nods.
“I don’t ever want to have to bail you out again.”
He nods his head. “Noted. If I’m arrested, call dad. Got it.”
I can’t hold back a laugh as he pulls me closer and presses his lips to mine.
Epilogue
Emma
EIGHT YEARS LATER
I watch our second child, Anton - affectionately nicknamed Ant - as his chubby little fists tear into his smash cake. He’s one year old today - where does the time go?
I blink back tears as Clifton’s gaze locks on mine. I see the worry there, and the love.
Our first born, Ant’s older sister, walks up to him in her pretty blue dress that matches his cake - I swear it’s a coincidence, everyone in this house loves blue - and tells him he’s such a mess.
She’s only three, but my goodness she is sassy. Clifton swears she gets it from me. I think she gets it from him.
We’ve had eight years of pure happiness, love, and adventure. The last three years have been full of wonder and gratitude, sleepless nights, and diaper changes, baby giggles, and snuggles.
I love both of our babies so much, and I love the man that I married. He’s amazing in every possible way, from late night baby feedings and changes to foot rubs, baths, and rest.
And now, we’re throwing a big party to celebrate our little one. There’s pizza, snacks, every kind of juice imaginable, not to mention all the decorations like balloons banners, and streamers. Clifton stayed up late last night with me, wrapping gifts and preparing the house for guests and little Ant’s big day. But even as happy as I am, I’m sad my baby isn’t a baby anymore.
Ant beams at his sister, showing her a huge toothy grin covered in chocolate cake and blue frosting. Together, Clifton and I have done everything we can to make this day special for him.
But even as my heart breaks a little bit because my baby's growing up, I'm also the happiest woman. I have everything I could have hoped for. A wonderful husband, two beautiful children, a successful career, a lovely home, a supportive network, and good friends. I have the perfect life.
He catches my gaze again, then cuts through the crowd to come to my side. “Are you okay?” he asks in a low voice that’s just intended for us to hear. The low, throaty growl reminds me of all the physical promises he’s made - and kept - over the years. And suddenly, I want him right here, right now.
