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Likely because I’m leaning against Seth’s steady, broad chest while his arms wrap around my collarbone, his breath warm on my neck, while water laps gently at the weathered posts supporting the dock behind his house. It’s my birthday today, and we celebrated as a family last night with Seth’s Mexican food, Jess’s delicious homemade chocolate torte cake, Ben’s charcuterie, and my favorite people in the world around me.
Today, though, Joanna insisted on me taking the afternoon off since Seth was off duty so we could spend some time alone together. Between work and the kids and Seth and Jess finding a balance with getting to know their brother, our alone time has been few and far between lately. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when we sneak a kiss over the kids’ heads while watching a movie or when he whispers something that makes my cheeks flush when he passes me something at the dinner table.
A whole afternoon together, though?
I feel like I’m dreaming.
Only this is better than a dream, because I’m not seeing it in black and white or only able to getjustclose enough to Seth before my dream ends. I’ve never enjoyed that aspect of dreams.
This is far from a dream. It’s a moment of Technicolor—the brilliant hues of leaves draping over the rippled cerulean surface of the lake, the warmth of the wooden dock underneath my legs, the strong presence of my fiancé behind me. It’s a moment, certainly. But if I had my choice between fleeting dreams that sometimes seem better than reality or fleeting moments that are sometimes painfully realistic, I would choose moments. I’ve been described as an optimist. I like wearing happy yellow T-shirts with my hair in a falling-out bun while I stroke paint across a blissfully blank canvas. I choose to look at the glass half full, since it’s depressing to look at it as half-empty.
Since Seth demolished the walls around my heart, completely ruining the idea of loving any other man, he’s been like a shot of reality into my optimism. We probably shouldn’t complement each other, but somehow, we do. Maybe it’s magic, maybe it’s the Higher Power at work, maybe it’s just a fragile but shatterproof miracle we coaxed into existence. I’m not sure. I don’t know if we’ll ever fully make sense on paper, especially to someone on the outside looking in, but that’s okay. Nobody can possibly know everything that makes us so right together. If they did, they would know too much.
“Happy birthday, beautiful.” Seth’s words are muffled because he whispers them into my skin, his lips grazing my bare shoulder. He smooths the goosebumps on my arms with his warm palms, and I let my eyes close. “Have I told you that lately?”
A lazy smile tugs at my lips, my head resting back against his shoulder. “Mmm. No, I think it’s been a little while.”
“Ah, then I should probably say it again, yeah?” He lifts my right hand and presses a kiss to my palm. “Happy birthday, beautiful.” A kiss to my knuckles. “Happy birthday.” A kiss to the inside of my wrist. “Happy birthday. That better?”
“Much better,” I say, giggling when he attacks the side of my face with soft-as-satin kisses, his dark air falling into a beautiful disarray in the process. “Hey, Seth?”
He pauses and raises a dark brow, looking almost boyish. “Hmm?”
I reach up and trace my fingers over the firm line that is his jaw, the light stubble tickling my skin. “Nothing. I just wanted to say I love you.”
“Uh, I think that would be consideredsomething.” His tone is serious, but his eyes are twinkling. “Hey, Jenna?”
Knowing he’ll probably say the same thing to me, I playfully cock my own brow. “Hmm?”
“You and I,” he whispers, “should get married.”
A laugh bubbles up in me. “We’re already engaged, silly. Remember?”
He releases a sound. “Oh, yeah. I very clearly remember that day, thanks.”
“Okay, then what are you saying?” I only ask this because he doesn’t look like he’s teasing. I know when Seth’s teasing, and he is doing no such thing right now. He might have a good poker face around others, but I’ve delightfully discovered that he struggles to mask his feelings around me. I love it. “Because I’m not following.”
That’s another thing I’ve learned lately, thanks to Seth. Beating around the bush is as useless as trying to put a square through a circle. Those were his exact words a couple weeks ago when he was on the phone with Jess, and she was going on and on about something. (Apparently, she wanted him to help her with something at her kitchen, but she asked him in the most roundabout way possible.) Needless to say, being blunt is empowering. I don’t think I’ve even reached my full potential.
“Do you want a big wedding?” he asks, holding my gaze intently.
“No.”
“Do you want a long engagement?”
I snort. “There is no point in that. At all. In fact, I think it’s so… Actually, never mind. Carry on.”
“Do you have a specific place you’d like to get married?”
“Um, no.”
“Any dates to avoid?”
Brows furrowing, I shake my head. “Not that I can think of. Why? What’s with all the questions?”
Seth inhales a breath so big I feel his chest expand, then releases it. “Jenna, will you marry me?”
A surprised laugh shakes my body, and I stare at him incredulously. “Seth. We literally just talked about this. I have no idea what you’re getting at here, but—”
