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“Okay…”
“You know I’m president of the Women’s Refuge here in Wellington?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you decide not to practice full-time, I thought maybe you might like to give free legal advice to the women about restraining orders, custody battles, and divorce. They’re desperate for help, but often they don’t know where to start.”
My jaw drops. “I’d love to do that,” I whisper. “So… I could do that, and still do the children’s parties?”
“That was my thought.”
Emotion swells inside me. It’s the perfect answer. How does he always know exactly what to say to me?
He picks up the box from the coffee table, takes out the ring, and holds it out to me.
I put down my drink and stare at it. “It’s so beautiful,” I whisper.
“Alex helped me choose it. The jeweler thought we were gay.”
“I can imagine Alex’s face.”
“Actually, he went along with it. He put his arm around me and said, ‘He’s every man’s dream.’”
That makes me giggle. I can’t continue to be mad with my brother. Not when he obviously wants us to work out.
“You still haven’t answered me,” Damon says softly.
“Oh honey. The answer’s yes. Yes, yes, yes.” I lean forward and kiss him. Then, gently, I take the ring from him and slide it onto my fourth finger. It fits perfectly. “I’ve never seen anything like it in real life,” I whisper. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s only what you deserve.” He watches me observe the way it sparkles in the sunlight. Then he leans forward, puts his arms around me, pulls me toward him, and lies back so I fall on top of him. I laugh, kiss his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids, and then his lips. Mmm…
“You’re the best kisser in the world,” I tell him when I eventually lift my head.
He chuckles. “That’s a nice thing to say.”
“I’m so lucky.”
“Me, too. Not every story has a happy ending like this one.”
“Are you thinking about Christian?”
“Yeah. And your mum. And even Lewis.”
He told me a week ago that Lewis quit his job at Kingpinz. I guess he couldn’t get over what had happened, especially when in his eyes his manner didn’t constitute harassment. I know Damon’s upset over it, although he hasn’t said much.
Leaning on his chest, I hold up my hand and look at the ring again. “Do you really want to marry me?”
“I do.” He smiles.
“Where would you like to get married?”
“I don’t know. I thought… maybe… in church?”
My eyebrows rise. “Really? Have you found your faith again?”
He links his fingers with mine, so the diamond glitters in the middle. “I feel… hopeful. When I was younger, I had blind faith. Now I feel as if I’m coming at it from an adult point of view. I know it has its flaws, and I have lots of questions, the same ones everyone does, like why does God let bad things happen? But I’m beginning to realize that those questions can coexist with a belief in a creator. I’m just kinda letting it happen, you know?”
I nod, a lump in my throat at his words.
