Before I could think, I got up and followed her into the kitchen. I didn’t plan to say it. The words arrived fully formed.Marry me. Even now, as I stare at her back in the kitchen, I don’t fully understand the mechanics of it. I just know the way she grips the edge of the counter because she is in pain makes me want to rip my own heart out.
I only understood the outcome I required. She needed insurance. She needed stability.
She needed to stop walking on an injured knee right now. It was as if the pain rang through my own head as I watched her hobble over to the sink.
I needed it corrected. That was all.
Her fury had startled me. She surprised me, and people these days rarely surprise me.‘You get injured, you call a specialist.’She had not raised her voice. She had merely stated a fact. And I had no rebuttal. She was absolutely correct.
I knew this was the state of things. I even knew it was wrong. Yet somehow, I thought I’d been doing enough. I donated to the campaigns of politicians who promised to fix things but neverdid. I donated large amounts monthly to a local women’s shelter and the ACLU. I thought I was doing enough. It wasn’t until I saw it right in front of me that I realized it wasn’t close to enough.
She turned abruptly, favoring her left leg despite her efforts to mask it. “I have to get back to work,” she said.
“You will not return to the basement today.”
She ignored that. She moved toward the hallway.
“Belle, please. Rest. I’ll pay you all the same. I just need you to stop moving. Now!”
She turned back to me.
“I can not have you injuring yourself further.”
“Is that what this is about? You’re worried I’m going to hurt myself here and try and pin the whole thing on you, and what, sue you or something?”
“I’m sure your lawyers are no match for mine.”
I’m not sure why I said that, but the instant glare she gives me warms my heart. Why does it do that? I just can’t get enough of her.
“You are unbelievable.”
“Belle, I know you wouldn’t do that, but Idothink that you would push yourself because you are too noble to ask for help.”
That stopped her. The fire left her, and her gaze drifted to the floor. I didn’t care for that, but maybe it would allow her to finally hear me.
“Your solution to this problem can’t be marriage,” she said with disbelief still in her eyes.
I turn to her and cock my head, studying her. “Would you allow me to pay your medical bills?”
“Absolutely not!” She glared at me with her hands on her hips. “I am not your charity case!”
“That’s what I figured.”
Why did I find her glare even more attractive than her smile?
That was not the problem before us. That one I couldn’t solve.
“Marry me.”
She looked up at me with those deep brown eyes I could get lost in. Her mouth opened, but closed again before any sound left it.
“We’ll work out the details. If you won’t take the money from me, let the insurance company pay for it.”
She still stood there silent. Her glare had softened, leaving only a deep, concerned V between her eyebrows.
“Think of it as a business transaction. You need medical attention, and I have the means to give it to you.”
Finally, she said, “And what do you get out of it?”
