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“Why?” she asked again, though her voice was a touch warmer, giving him undeserved hope.
“Well, for one thing, for the same reason you were sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you.” He adjusted his spectacles.
“Lied to me?” She placed her hands on her hips. “What did you lie about?”
“About not believing in marriage—though I do have genuine issues with the laws surrounding it—about not wanting to get married, about not being able to get married.”
She snorted. “Well, obviously you can do it. Even I knew that was figurative, not literal. And of course you take issues with the laws. You take issues with most laws. That’s part of your, what do you call it? Shtuck?”
He blinked. What did she mean—oh. “My shtick?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “That’s the word. But, that’s neither here nor there. You were lying to spare my feelings.”
“No, I was lying to spare mine.” He swallowed. “Because I didn’t want you to say ‘no.’ Or to tell me that you couldn’t so I pretended it was my choice without giving you the chance to reject me. I rejected you and myself, or more I rejected us, before you could.”
“Oh.” Her response was breathy, but clear.
“What do you want?” He laid his hands on her lap, and thankfully, she didn’t remove them, just covered them with her own. An excellent sign.
“I want the same thing that I’ve always wanted,” she said. “I want a family.” She pursed her lips. “Now I don’t necessarily know if that means children or not and I now realize it definitely includes Lydia, Rachel, and Isaac, even if they can be annoying, but I want you to be part of it too.”
And that was all he needed. If his knees hadn’t been asleep, he’d have leaped up and danced. Instead, he just squeezed both her hands. “How?” “I want you to live here. I want to talk to you every single day. I want to share everything with you.” She bit her lip. “And I want to be able to call you my husband. I want to let everyone know that we’re a family, that we’re partners.”
“I’d like that too.” More than anything.
“You would?” And now there were tears in her eyes again.
“Very much.” He climbed on the couch next to her, still holding her hands. “Oh god. I’m so sorry. I’m a...putz.”
“I think Meg called you a shmuck.” She sniffed a little.
She was really doing a good job with the Yiddish. His heart swelled.
“Same difference.” He kissed each knuckle one more time. “I loved you then and I love you now, even more. Actually, much more. It grows and matures every day and I don’t want a life without you, a family without you.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry that I made you doubt that, that I let my lack of faith in myself ruin everything.”
She sighed. “You weren’t the only one. I could’ve been braver, spoken up more and certainly didn’t have to lie about being engaged and worse, marry the first person to meet the description of my fictitious partner.” She glanced down at her lap, spreading the bright pink, the fuchsia folds.
“You what?” He gasped a little. “You weren’t engaged and you married Ethan because...”
“I wanted to marry you and lied because I was hurt and didn’t want to look pathetic.” She winced. “I’m so sorry. I was young and foolish and—”
“You weren’t the only one.” He closed his eyes for a long moment. They really were both rather ridiculous, weren’t they?
“I truly am sorry. You needed a better partner. And will have one. So you don’t have to do everything yourself.” He scratched his head and reached into the pocket of his dark gray wool coat. He’d worn his best for the occasion. “I um...got you something.”
“Oh, David. You didn’t need to. I don’t need anything but you, here.” She shook her head, turning up her lips in that smile he so loved. “And besides, I know how you feel about money.”
He grimaced. “I’m not that negative about it, am I?”
She wrinkled her
nose and gave him an adorable half shrug.
Oy. He pulled her into his arms. “I must be completely insufferable. I have no idea how you put up with me.”
“Because I love you, you shmendreck.” She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.
“Good one.” He rubbed his arm. She was as strong as her brothers too. How did he get so lucky? “Anyway.” He unfolded the butcher paper so she could sniff the soap he’d crafted. “Magnolias. From the Truitt properties. So a little bit of that home in this home.”
