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Seventy-Nine
BJ
Asking her to marry me was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Easiest decision I’ve ever made, if we’re gonna call it that. It was more like the undertow of the universe pulling me back to her. She thinks we’re in the stars but I just think she’s the current of everything and I’m always just drifting… Floating home to her.
Sorry — annoying, I know. But you know me, I love her too much and a nautical metaphor always seems to be on the horizon.
Should have done it years ago, probably. Maybe everything would have been different. Done it fresh out of school — bit unusual in our circles, definitely — it worked for Sam and Clara England though. They got married when they were eighteen and were embarrassingly in love until he died, but when you know you know. And I knew when I was six that I loved her. Didn’t know it’d be like this, didn’t know that loving someone this much can be as good as it can be fucked.
There are so many things I wish I’d done differently, too many ways I hurt her that I wish I could take back. But then I wonder if things now are exactly as they’re meant to me to be. Because we’re meant to be.
Not a question in my mind. It’s her.
It’s always been her.
And tonight we get to tell everyone.
Dinner at Heston Blumenthal’s with the Full Box Set and each of our families.
It’s a good day. Exciting day.
Should be anyway, but Parks is about ready to murder the whole fucking world because her sling ‘doesn’t go with anything’.
“Waited to marry you all my motherfucking life!” she yells from inside her wardrobe. “And you — you big prick — decide to ask me when I have a fucking pin in my shoulder.”
“It’s in your clavicle, Parks,” I call to her.
She pokes her head out of the closet long enough to give me a glare before huffing back inside.
“We can postpone?” I offer because it feels like the right thing to do.
Her head pokes back out. “Excuse me, what?”
I shrug. “Postpone if you want?”
She stares at me. “Postpone getting married?”
I roll my eyes. “Postpone telling them.”
“Oh.” She blinks a few times. “No.”
“We should talk about a date though,” I call to her.
“Yes, right.” She walks back out as she puts in some earrings. “A long engagement or a short one?”
“Hate long engagements—” Shake my head at her. “I’ll marry you tomorrow.”
“Would you?” She beams, pleased.
I nod.
She considers it for the briefest second then waves her hand through the air dismissively. “Don’t be daft. Elie doesn’t even know we’re engaged yet, how’s he going to make my dress by the morning time?”
I roll my eyes.
“It’s almost May—” She purses her lips. “I’d have liked to have been married in the summer if we’re getting married here.”
Frown at her a bit. “So you want to wait til a year from now?”
