I’m afforded a shirtless view of his body every night, but this time I’m imagining it on top of me. My heart beats rapidly, seeming to enjoy the rollercoaster it’s on while my nerves go haywire. I lick my lips and swallow hard when his Adam’s apple bobs as he chugs his beer. My fingertips twitch with the urge to run themselves through the dark, damp curls at the base of his neck.
When I start to feel dizzy, I decide to slice through the nerves by deliberately striding out toward the deck. My logic? I can’t stare at him anxiously if I’m talking to him. I announce my return by walking up behind him.
He turns, leans down, and gives me the same kiss he’s been giving me twice a day. The one I look forward to every day and every night. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he adds.
I peer around him to see a couple of elk steaks on the grill. “Wow. That’s the thickest meat I’ve seen in a long time.” I pull a loose strand of hair that the breeze blew across my face thenrealize what I’ve said. Covering my face with my hands, I sigh. “You know what I meant. Right?” I hazard a peek through my fingers.
He responds by barking out a laugh but says nothing.
It’s a beautiful spring evening, and though I’m excited to finally get closer to Wolf physically, I’d almost give anything to stay locked in this moment, despite the awkwardness I just infused into the situation. He and I on the deck in a mountainous forest with the evening sun and a mild breeze. Him looking happy to see me come home so we can begin a relaxing and intimate evening. Even the nerves have turned down a more calm and delightful road.
I look longingly at the beer in his hand with the condensation beading across the brown bottle. A cool object to press against my still warm cheeks. “Think I’ll join you in one of those.” I nod at the beer and turn for the kitchen.
“Hey, hang on a second,” he calls gently. “I got you something today.”
What? “You didn’t have to do that,” I say, taking a few steps back toward him.
Despite the rocky week between us, this isn’t the first time he’s given me something. One morning on my nightstand, I found a perfectly shaped pinecone with gold edges that practically glittered in the sun. Another morning it was a perfectly intact pheasant feather, so beautiful and soft with its gorgeous speckles sprayed across it like a painting.
And now, he sets the bottle down, exchanging it for a small, black velvet box. He snaps the box lid open without any preamble. and I feel the air leave my lungs, hitching a ride on the mountain breeze. I blink twice, trying to be sure of what I’m seeing, and my heartbeat sounds like it’s beating on the outside of my body. Nestled in the black velvet sits a yellow gold ring with a round yellow topaz set securely in the middle.Tiny diamonds surround the stone, cut into leaf-shaped settings, making the design look like a flower.
“It’s breathtaking,” I whisper, unable to find my voice. “Wolf, it’s so beautiful.”
“I found it at Nadine’s,” he says, referring to the woman who owns a shop on Main Street in town. “I think you’ve gone long enough without a ring.” He finishes his presentation by handing the box to me.
I’ve seen Nadine’s work at craft fairs but have never gone to her shop. She designs beautiful pieces, and I take the box hesitantly and admire the ring before shaking my head. “Will you put it on me?” I request, trying to pass the box back to him.
He answers with a nod, pulling the ring out and placing the box aside. Taking my hand, he slips the ring on my finger. It’s beautiful and glints in the sun against my skin. “It made me think of your eyes,” he says once the ring is in place.
I look up at him in wonder. “Really?”
Another quiet nod as he reaches for his beer again. I’m still getting used to Wolf not being one to stand on ceremony.
“I still need to get you one,” I murmur, wondering what kind he would like.
“No need,” he reports and holds his left hand out to me.
My heart is still doing somersaults in my chest from the thought he put into the ring on my own finger. And now my mind is stunned, almost numb, at the sight of my name scrawled in a small calligraphic font across his ring finger.
“You…” I’m back to whispering because my breath is gone for the second time since I got home. “You got my name tattooed on your finger?”
“Well yeah,” he answers, like it’s no big deal.
I lean in to look at his ring finger. My name is in a delicate handwritten font, and a small blue flower replaces theo. It’s exactly like the blue flax in Mima’s garden. “Why?” So manyother words—why when this was only an arrangement, why when we still hardly know each other, and why, when we don’t know if this will last?—dissolve on my tongue before I can speak them.
“I tried a few rings on, but I don’t like jewelry,” he admits with a head shake, as if he doesn’t know the reason why. “I’ve never liked the feel of metal on my skin. And, you know, why not?” His eyes shift to mine.
“Just… that tattoo is permanent.” That’s all my brain can scavenge. “You can never get rid of it.”
He looks down at his finger a moment, like he’s trying to decide if I’m right to make a big deal out of this. After a barely there shake of his head, he looks up. “You’re my wife.” His eyes seem to darken.
My lips part, like they’re trying to help my nose with the oxygen intake. The combination of his eyes and his words does something to me I don’t have the capacity for—at least not this second. “Yeah.” My breath carries the word out.
“Permanent is kind of the point.”
“But, we don’t know…” My head shakes slowly back and forth as I look for words.
“You don’t think this will last.” It’s more of a statement as he cocks his head and looks closer at me.
