Page 111

“I want to stay,” I tell him. “I want to stay with you.”

My hand has started to shake against the mug, so I put it down.

“Will you marry me?”

The words come out properly. No explanation behind them. No folder. No list.

Colt looks at me long enough that my heart reaches my throat.

“Yes.”

One word. No house. No school. No lawyer. No room assignment.

He still has not moved.

“You can take a minute.”

“I’ve had eight days.”

“That was my time.”

“I used some of it.”

He reaches across the table and stops short of touching me, and I put my hand in his.

“I meant it when I asked you,” he says.

“I know.”

“I mean it now.”

“I know that too.”

His thumb goes over my knuckle, and the pressure in my chest changes enough that I can breathe around it.

“I have money,” I say. “I need to contribute.”

“Then we work it out with numbers.”

“I need to know what I am responsible for.”

“You will.”

That gets my eyes up.

“I’m not asking you to hand me a bank account and call it a marriage, Astrid.”

“Tova comes before everything.”

His hand loosens enough that I could take mine back if I wanted it.

I do not.

“I tell her first. Then we decide together what she needs from you.”

“Okay.”

I turn my hand inside his and put our fingers together.