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Finley lifts her head and hits me with wide eyes that are brimmed with tears.
“What?” she chokes, blinking rapidly.
“Marry me,” I repeat. I may have not really thought it through but that doesn’t mean I regret saying it. “I want you to be my wife.”
“Abel.” She lifts her hand to muffle a sob, fresh tears pooling in her eyes.
“I’m not asking you because you’re sick. I’m asking you because I know that there’s no way I’ll ever love someone as much as I love you. I want to tie myself to you in every way humanly possible. I want you to be my wife. What do you say?”
She slowly lowers her hand, revealing the widest smile I think I’ve ever seen before enthusiastically nodding, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes.” She flings her arms around my neck and straddles my lap, hugging me tightly. “Yes,” she repeats, burying her face into my neck.
