Wakefulness comes over me gradually, my body fighting it every step of the way. I'm warm and comfortable, surrounded by pillows and blankets, and it makes me wonder why I'm not still sleeping. I turn over and pull the comforter tighter around my shoulders, hoping I'll be able to go back to sleep.

At that moment, though, I'm overcome with an odd sensation of being watched and my eyes snap open. I have to blink a couple of times but Josh comes into focus; his head is propped up by his hand as he looks at me, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Hey," he whispers, his hand coming to rest on my waist. "You awake?"

I blink a few more times, discombobulated by my surroundings until my brain catches up, reminding me that I'm staying with Josh in his apartment. In fact, this is the second morning in a row we've woken up together. It's still not something I'm used to.

But I don't hate it.

"Hi," I answer. I reach out and place my hand on his exposed chest, making sure he's real. "Why are you staring at me?"

He lets out a low chuckle. "I wanted to make sure you weren't a dream." He scoots down so we're face to face, our heads on the same pillow. "Hey," he says again, leaning in and kissing me softly.

I hesitate for just a few moments, suddenly very conscious of my morning breath, but it doesn't seem to bother Josh. His hand on my waist tightens and he pulls me closer, and I shift the blankets out of the way until we're skin to skin. It's all such an odd sensation. A week ago, the most I'd done with Josh was kiss him and that was just the one time. Now I'm in bed with him, in his apartment, completely naked and honestly very sated. It all feels so bizarre and somehow completely natural. Despite how awkward it felt when he first brought me here the other night, it's felt completely natural since. It wasn't hard to curl up in bed with Josh or sit on the couch with him while we watch TV or talk about everything that's happened in the last few months or even make love with him. It all feels like something we're supposed to be doing. But there's definitely a part of my brain that's having trouble catching up to how quickly everything has happened.

He pulls his lips from mine slowly, sighing as he nuzzles my nose. "I like waking up like this."

"Mmmm," I agree. "It's not terrible." He pokes my side and I chuckle. "What time is it?"

"Early. You should still be asleep."

I laugh again, burrowing myself into him as much as possible. "Then you shouldn't have been staring at me."

"Your eyes were closed—how could you know I was even awake?"

"I could feel it. It was like tiny lasers piercing my skull."

"That's a nice visual."

I smile and sigh, taking a chance and pressing a kiss to his neck. Casual intimacy isn't something we've worked on yet—when would we have had the chance? Our entire relationship has consisted of a couple of hotel room trysts, and two nights and a day at his apartment.

I sigh again, feeling a bit of shame wash over me, which is a little ridiculous. I'm an adult. I'm allowed to have sex with someone. I'm allowed to have sex with someone without dating them. But it just feels like it should be more with Josh, like we shouldn't be hiding out in his apartment naked instead of going to dinner or the movies. Though I can't deny that just hanging out with him for the last thirty or so hours has been nice. Really nice. And actually restful, despite several enthusiastic rounds of sex. Of course, we fell asleep after those, so that probably helped.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just thinking too much." I try to push myself closer to him. "You said you'd have to go into work today?"

He groans and buries his face against my hair. "Don't remind me. We wanted to be able to give everyone the whole weekend—give everyone time to decompress, you know?" He says that like I wasn't informed of all this already before the funeral.

"There's just so much that needs to be done."

"Are you going in for the whole day?" I ask, looking up at him and hoping that I'm giving him my best adorable look. I worry I've aged out of adorable, though. Well, I worry until he makes a strangled noise and pushes me onto my back, covering my body with his. I moan with satisfaction as he kisses me.

"Half a day—max," he mumbles against my lips.

"Promise?" I ask, wiggling my hips against his.

He moans—loudly—lifting his head from mine. "Promise," he answers, a flush creeping up his neck. "You're going be the death of me, woman." He kisses me again and rolls off me, pressing close to my side. "You could come in with me."

"Or, you could just think about me lying in your bed—that should make it easier for you to leave, right?"

"Donna!"

I shrug and grab his hand, pulling it off my hip and bringing it to my mouth. I kiss the palm then hold it to my chest. "Just trying to help you find some balance."

He snorts and leans in, kissing me again. "I'm just going to go in, make sure a few things are being handled, and come back home. The President-Elect won't be back from Houston until late tonight, anyway."

"You're going in now?"

He just rolls his eyes playfully. "I'm in no condition right now to go anywhere, thank you very much."

"Like that's my fault."

"I'd say you're at least partially to blame, yes."

I turn on my side and throw my leg over his, pressing our hips together. "If you say so."

A strange noise comes out of his mouth but he only kisses me again. He actually kisses me quite senseless until we reemerge from our cocoon some time later, breathing heavily, faces flushed, skin sticky and sweaty, and satisfied grins on our faces.

"Hey—can I ask you something?"

I chuckle, pushing my damp hair out of my face. "After that? You can ask me anything you want."

He laughs, kissing my neck. "Orgasms equal answers?"

I stretch, taking a deep breath before curling into him again. I could really get used to waking up like this. "Until I'm able to gather my wits. Ask away."

"It's probably going to seem odd."

"Oookay."

He makes a face and shakes his head. "Never mind. Let's just go back to sleep for a while."

Like that'll happen now. "Out with it, Josh." I prop myself up on my elbow, staring down at him. He sighs but pops himself up, too.

"Why'd you think I'd want Amy here with me instead of you?"

I can actually feel my face flush with embarrassment, and I wouldn't be surprised if I was red all the way down my chest. "What're you talking about?"

"C'mon, Donna, you know what I'm talking about. You kept saying I should invite Amy over here if I was looking for company. Amy and I haven't been anything for a long time."

I drop onto my back, pulling the blankets up to my chin. "I wish you could see the way you look at her."

"How do I look at her?"

I feel so ridiculous for even bringing this up. It's not like I have some sort of claim on Josh. We've only slept together a tiny handful of times. That does not a lifetime commitment make. "Like…I don't know. Like she's the answer to all your prayers."

His eyes grow wide. "Donna—"

"And it's your life, I guess, but I just don't want to see you go down that road again. You always wind up getting your heart stomped."

"I already told you that she has a boyfriend."

"That doesn't always mean—"

"And I told you I'm not interested in being with her."

I hate myself for feeling insecure when it comes to Amy but there's something about her that's always done it to me. I can't believe after all this time, after how far I've come, all it takes is seeing Josh give her that look at the memorial service to make me feel like an insecure high schooler. Add in the fact that she suddenly wants to set Josh up on a date—which I can't help but feel is some sort of tactical maneuver on her part—and Josh didn't immediately tell her to let it go…I'm probably putting too much thought into it. But that's what Amy Gardner in Josh's presence does to me. It's ridiculous and over the top and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

"Look, it's understandable, I suppose. I know Amy was the great love of your life, but—"

"Whoa!" he exclaims, bolting upright next to me. "What the hell ever gave you that idea?"

"Josh, come on. I've been here through every part of your relationship. I know how you get around her."

"She's not the love of my life!"

I sigh, readjusting the blankets around me as I try to maneuver myself into a more seated position. "I'm not judging you for that or anything—"

"She's not the love of my life. You're the love of my life!"

I lose all ability to speak for several long moments. My mouth grows dry as I stare at him. I feel my lips start to quirk up at the corners though I fight back my grin.

"No, I'm not."

He looks a little shell-shocked, too, and I'm positive that he didn't mean to say it at that moment and in that way. He finally grins at me; dimples deep, eyes crinkled, and with more teeth than I ever knew he had. "Yes you are."

"Josh…"

"Donna, I love you."

My cheeks ache, and it takes me a minute to realize it's because I'm smiling so hard. "No, you don't."

"I really do. I love you."

"You're just saying that because—"

"I'm not saying it because we're in bed or because we just had sex or whatever. I'm saying it because it's true."

I don't know how I manage to smile any bigger, but I feel my grin widen anyway.

"Really?"

He scoots closer, taking my face in his hands. "Really," he whispers just before he kisses me. I can't help it—I feel a tear spill down my cheek. He just wipes it away with his thumb, keeping the kiss gentle.

My heart flutters wildly; I wasn't expecting anything like this while staying with Josh. I thought—I hoped—that we'd get to spend some time together in this new way and maybe work toward becoming something more permanent, but I never imagined I'd get a declaration of love. I thought that was something that'd take more time. Still, I don't doubt him. This part of our relationship might be new but we have known each other for almost ten years. I suppose it isn't entirely out of the blue.

Josh pulls away from me abruptly, twisting around until he's draped over the bed, reaching into his nightstand. Impressive—he's ready for round two and is grabbing a new condom in anticipation—

He turns back to me, small velvet box in hand, and all thoughts vanish. For the second time this morning, my mouth drops open in shock. He shifts nervously and opens the box lid, and my hand flies to my mouth. Knowing what's in the box and seeing what's in the box are two entirely different feelings. Right now, my stomach feels like it's going to fall out of me. I can feel myself crying, tears escaping my eyes at an alarming rate.

"Donna," he says, his voice cracking. He clears his throat, and it's then that I see his hand shaking just a little. "Marry me?"

I struggle to find my voice, somehow finding myself shaking my head. "Josh—we can't. Not that I don't…I mean…I…do you have an engagement ring on hand just in case of an emergency?"

He still looks wide-eyed and panicky, but he laughs a little at my question. "I got this for you."

I feel the corners of my mouth pulling up again. "No you didn't."

"Donna, I swear." He pulls the ring out of the box and hands it to me. "Check out the inscription."

I take it from him reluctantly, trying not to think about what it means and instead focus on trying to read the tiny script inside the band. Established 1998. My heart absolutely melts. "Oh, Josh..."

"I wanted to put something meaningful there, but I'm not so great with things like this. Then I thought, you know, the year we met would be…nice."

I sniffle, turning the ring slowly in my fingers. "Josh, we can't," I finally say, trying to give it back to him. "It's too fast—"

"Donna, if the last year, and especially the last few weeks, has taught me anything, it's that we shouldn't waste time. We shouldn't put off getting married because of what the world might think. If it's right for us, that's all that should matter. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please…will you marry me?"

My mind is reeling. Is this happening? This isn't some intense dream I'm having during a catnap on the campaign trail, induced by the jostling of the bus? A week ago, I could barely get Josh alone in a room for more than a minute or two at a time. I never thought he'd be able to pluck up the courage to follow through with our interrupted first kiss all those weeks ago and now we're in bed, in his apartment, and he's asking me to spend my life with him…and I'm fighting him on this why?

"Yes."

His eyebrows jump up, making his forehead crinkle into a dozen little hills and valleys. "Yes?"

"Let's get married."

He lets out a yell and tackles me, knocking me onto my back as I laugh in surprise. He grins at me for a moment before leaning in to kiss me. I'm sure it's all in my head but this kiss feels different than the ones we've shared before. His head pops up a moment later and he grabs the ring—the ring that somehow hasn't gotten lost in the moment—from my hand. There's no hesitation as he slides it onto my ring finger. I hold up my hand for a few long seconds, marveling at it all. Inexplicably, the ring is a perfect fit. I probably shouldn't be surprised—Josh doesn't do anything halfway. I still have so many things to ask and to talk about, but I just kind of want to enjoy this moment.

He settles his body mostly on top of mine, pushing the blankets out of the way so that we're skin to skin. He grins from ear to ear and grabs my hand, kissing the palm before nuzzling his cheek against it.

This is all so unreal.

"If this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up," I whisper. He leans in and kisses me, and it takes me a few extra moments to realize we're having trouble with it because he's smirking. "What?"

"I think that was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard anyone say," he answers, laughing.

I smack his shoulder, making his smirk disappear. "This coming from the man who had an engagement ring in his nightstand on the off chance that he'd have me in his bed at some point so he could propose? I think you have the market cornered on cheese, Josh." He rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss me again, but I put my hand over his mouth, stopping him. "The ring was for me, right? You don't just keep one around in case you're here with some girl and the mood hits you and—"

"Donna," he says, pushing my hand away.

"There is no one else in this world I'd have an engagement ring for. I didn't go out and get one and hope that it'd fit some random woman at some random moment. I got it for you so I could give it to you. I just didn't know when that would be. It was in here because that seemed like the easiest place for me to keep it and I'd always know where it was. I don't want to marry anyone else. Just you. Please believe that."

I feel tears prickle my eyes and I reach up, running my hand through his wild hair. "You realize that's even cheesier, right?"

He laughs and presses his face into my neck for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I can see that. So…if this is a dream, I hope I never wake up, either."

I run my fingers down his cheek, sighing with happiness. "I love you," I whisper. "So much."

"I love you, too." He kisses me then, and all the horrible stuff from the past year or so—the fights, the silence, the losses, all of it—disappears for a while. For now, for a few moments, it's just me and my fiancé, and a world of possibilities.

And it's enough.