Carry Your World

by DrunkOnJerichohol

He was, by all accounts, an eyesore to most who crossed his path, but to one woman, he grew to be everything. In evolving together, she taught him an invaluable lesson; when his world became too heavy to hold on his own, she could reach out and carry the weight for him.

37. We're Supposed to Be

"Stephanie left last night."

"What do you mean she left?"

Chris drummed his fingers on Ted's dining room table and forced out another heavy breath. "Exactly that. She left."

"Left to go where?" Ted asked, blinking rapidly. I would imagine Chris wanted to be frustrated with his dad for not grasping the gist of his statement, but there was a certain innocence in Ted that made a person's love for him grow even more. It was as if he was always so busy searching for the positive in life that he couldn't properly see the negative, even when it sat right in front of him.

"Home. She went back to Connecticut with Vince."

"Oh," he said, sitting back in his seat. This answer apparently seemed to satisfy him for a short time. "Just to visit?"

Chris laughed at that, he told me later, but it was the empty kind of laughter that came when he was rapidly reaching the end of his rope. He covered his face with his hands, then ran his hands slowly downward until they plopped lifelessly into his lap, coming to an abrupt finish. "No, not to visit family, Dad. She's gone. She left me."

I was told Ted's eyes widened, then narrowed just as quickly. "Why would she do that?"

"Because she was lied to," Chris said. "Simple as that. Vince showed up at the house and I told her she should go outside and talk to him because he was creeping around and making a scene. He didn't want Steph there with me, so he came and made this big production, she went out to talk him down, and I guess when she did he got in her head, lied to her about me, and convinced her to leave. She didn't even come back inside to tell me she was going, either. I just looked out the window and saw them backing out of the driveway together."

"Why would she not say anything?"

"Because she's a very emotional person. Very, very emotional and if you get in her head and tell her something that upsets her, she acts on impulse. She doesn't think it through, she just runs on pure adrenaline, and it isn't until she's completely cooled off that you can talk to her and try to make her see the light. She left everything, Dad, I mean, literally, I've got her cell phone on my kitchen counter. I have her clothes, her shoes, her purse, her everything. You name it, I have it. The only thing gone is her."

"Her purse?" Ted asked, both of his brows perking. Chris looked up at him. "Is that what you just said?"

"When she went outside, she didn't bring anything with her except the clothes on her back because she planned on coming right back. That's how I know her choice to leave was spur-of-the-moment and she wouldn't have done it without Vince encouraging her. I don't know what he said, but whatever it was, he got her good."

"But listen to what you just said. You have her purse."

"Okay..." Chris stalled, intending to be led to the answer.

"I would assume she left her ID in that purse."

"All of her stuff is in there. I'm sure her ID is still in her wallet. It's not like she went out to talk to Vince and just took her ID with her. Like I said, she wasn't planning on leaving."

"How is she traveling if she doesn't have her ID?" Ted said. By now, he was practically taking Chris by the hand and walking him through the maze and out the exit. "I'm assuming if she didn't take the time to grab her purse and get her license, she also didn't bother grabbing her passport, which she would need to get back into the US."

Chris shook his head slowly. "She could have gotten a replacement."

"If she applied for a replacement passport, guess what? One of the first things they're going to ask for is her ID to verify who she is, and she can get a replacement ID to remedy that, but not here in Canada. She would have to be back home in Connecticut, but she can't get back home in the first place without the passport. There might be loopholes for getting a new US ID while she's out of the country, but she wouldn't know about them without researching first. See what I'm saying?"

"Oh, shit!" Chris hissed. By now, he was actually trembling with excitement. He started up from his chair, but plopped back down, floored by this sudden revelation. "She's still in Canada. She never left! I'm guessing she knows by now that whatever Vince told her was a lie, because if she thought it was true, she would have already shown up on my doorstep to get her stuff back and tell me off. If she's staying away for this long, it means she knows he was lying and is trying to figure out how to come back to me. She might think I'm mad at her for leaving."

"She's probably got a room somewhere in town while she tries to figure out how to approach you. At some point, she's either got to call you from another phone and ask to come over, or she's going to just show up at the house. You'll see her again soon," Ted stated calmly. He folded his hands on the table and smiled. "That's my prediction."

Chris did see me again soon.

Sooner than he ever expected.

It wasn't until after we married that Chris told me of his conversation with Ted, the one I just laid out for you. I was impressed Ted thought far enough to see what was right in front of Chris all along. Sometimes the most obvious clues that are practically dangling in front of your face are the hardest to see clearly. This was a case of that. Chris was too emotionally involved to view the situation objectively, but I was thankful he had such a close relationship with Ted and was able to talk to him and be led to the light. That's what family is all about.

For the record, I had been staying at a nearby waterfront hotel while I plotted my next move. Since I hadn't had the proper identification to travel, I saw Dad to the airport, where he got on the jet without me. The verbal promise between us was that I would get a hotel room for the night, then I would get up the next morning and grab all my stuff from Chris's house. From there, I would retrace Dad's step, go back to the Winnipeg airport, and fly home. That, in a nutshell, was the plan.

It didn't work out that way for two reasons: One, I had too much free time to analyze the situation at hand and, two, Mom called me after she heard from Dad that I had broken it off with Chris and was coming home. She found that pressing bit of news highly suspicious considering the timing of Dad's visit, so she questioned me further and we compared stories. It didn't take long to figure out what Dad had done, and when realization finally hit, I made the automatic decision to go back to Chris, if he would still have me. I was horrified by the thought of slinking back, knowing what a terrible girlfriend I had been to him.

I stayed in that hotel room a total of three days and four nights, all the while plotting and planning exactly what I would say when I showed up on Chris's front porch. I called for a driver my last morning there, and with only the clothes on my back and the shoes on my feet, I made the trip to his place. I was dropped off just before noon, and I smoothed my pants down and took tiny, uncertain steps toward the front door. Chris had been watching for me, it turned out. The lock clicked and the door swung back before I made it even halfway to him. I froze, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Chris took two giant steps out, angling the door partially closed behind him.

I felt a lot of things while I was away. I had been all in my feelings, and as every ounce of sorrow, heartache, misery, and guilt came flooding back to me, I knew that all I wanted and needed in this world was standing right across from me. I needed him. I ran, ran as fast as my legs would carry me, and he opened his arms up in the meantime, anticipating my arrival. I launched myself into him and secured my arms around his neck, curling my legs around his waist. I hooked my feet for added stability, and Chris carried me into the house that way, no questions asked. I heard the door shut and lock behind me.

I kept my face hidden in the side of his neck, jiggling against his body as he went up the steps. Up, up, up to our bedroom. He deposited me gently on the bed. Without a word, he knelt in front of me and undressed me. First my shoes, then socks, then my coat, shirt, belt, and pants. I was left in my bra and panties, and Chris disappeared momentarily into the closet we shared. He returned with a huge t-shirt and some fluffy cotton socks for me, my favorite things to wear inside whenever cold weather hit. He dressed me in that, and I helped him along by moving my limbs through the appropriate holes when necessary.

Keep in mind, neither of us had spoken a single word out loud, but we were conversing nonverbally the whole time. Chris knew what I was feeling and why, and vice versa. We had an understanding without a need for words. After I was dressed, Chris stopped in front of me and brushed some hair out of my face with his right hand. His voice sounded shaky and stressed when he finally spoke. "Did you get some food in you yet?"

"I had room service earlier, but I...didn't eat much of it," I said, looking down and fiddling with my hands. Chris nodded once and tipped my chin back up with his finger.

"I'm gonna make you something, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

He caught my chin between his index finger and thumb and leaned in close, examining me through a set of the most caring eyes that had ever been laid upon me. Softly, he asked, "Are you all right?"

I teared up instantly but didn't let anything fall. Nodding, I replied, "I'm fine, yeah."

Chris took my hand and slid it onto his chest, moving it around by guiding my wrist until, finally, he had my palm resting over his heart. We sat still for a moment and I felt it beat perfectly on rhythm. Chris caressed my arm with his thumb while this was happening, then all at once, he stood and my arm dropped back down to my side. He licked his lips, then spoke to me. "You can only feel my heart from the outside, but sometimes I wish I could find a way to make you feel it from the inside, too. If you knew how it felt from in here," he paused, pointing to his chest, "you would never question my love for you ever again."

Just that quickly, he left. And those tears I had been holding onto?

They fell.

That whole day, the air hung heavy with words unspoken. I had so much to say, and so did Chris, but we danced around it, choosing instead to make small talk about what we might eat for dinner that night or which movie we might watch before bed. It was pointless. I knew it, he knew it, but neither of us could bring ourselves to open that oozing, bloody wound. When the skies blackened and the streetlamps flickered on, I escaped to the upstairs bathroom and took a bubble bath. I thought if I occupied myself with something, it would keep Chris and me from talking, which would prevent what we both knew was coming.

This was a turning point in our relationship, in many ways. I left foamy soap residue on the tub's ceramic edge as I doodled against it with my big toe. It was all so absurd. I had walked out on my boyfriend without so much as a goodbye, rushing back into his life equally as abruptly. We were joined under the same roof once again, but he was downstairs and I was up above, each of us pretending that it was all okay. Before my return, I wondered how Chris might react when he first saw me. I had even narrowed it down to one of two options. He would either blow up at me, or he would curl up inside his shell and shut me out. I was glad neither of those came true.

Part of the tension was due to the surgery Chris had scheduled. His life was about to change in the wake of a groundbreaking operation, yet here I was, making everything all about me. I was shifting the attention to a place it didn't belong, and I physically sank deeper into the water when I realized how alone Chris must have felt in such a trying time. I was still up here; he was still down there. I scrambled up and left my soapy water to mellow as I wrapped a large towel around my body, securing it at the pits of my arms. My feet pattered across our bedroom carpet with ease, but I slowed to a crawl in the hallway so I wouldn't slip on the wood.

With care, I hung onto the railing and stepped down, the ends of my hair slapping against my back and leaving soap and water spots wherever they landed. I made it about three quarters of the way down before I saw him. He was pacing in the center of the living room, biting his right thumbnail while he looked down at a small item in his left hand. I couldn't make it out, but the way Chris froze and gaped when he saw me caused the hairs to raise on the back of my neck. I had caught him in the middle of something, clearly. But what?

Never one to mince words, I got straight to it. "What are you doing? What's in your hand?"

By now, Chris had clamped his fingers around the mystery "thing" and was actually shielding it from me behind his back. I waited on the third step, mouth slack and hair hanging damply while Chris and I faced off, staring at one another wordlessly. I was waiting for him to explain, but I guess he was waiting for me to start us off. My throat was too dry to form any actual words, so I waited him out long enough that he knew he would have to be the one to step up. It was apparent he had something to share with me. Maybe even lots of things. The question was whether or not I was ready to hear them.

"I thought you were taking a bath," Chris said. His voice cracked at the end of the sentence, sounding as though he had entered puberty only seconds before I walked into the room. I wanted to laugh, but I was too afraid that whatever he had to tell me wasn't humorous in the slightest, so I held it in.

"I was," I nodded slowly, "but now I'm here."

"Yeah, I guess you are."

"Chris," I started shakily, loosing my grip on the wooden rail, "what's going on? What did I just walk in on here?"

"Nothing."

"Your hand is still behind your back," I said, pointing at it for good measure. "Want to try that again?"

Chris looked down at his feet, his shoulders slumping forward in the process. "I don't really feel comfortable saying right now."

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Because now's not the time."

"Not the time for what?"

"For this," Chris said. He flicked his head toward his arm, which, by the way, was still tucked around his back where I couldn't see it. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way. I was trying to plan it out."

"Plan what out?"

"What I wanted to do."

"What did you want to do?"

"Nothing!" he snapped.

By now, he was exasperated and tired, and I saw it in his eyes. He was having a difficult time. The last few months—hell, the last several years, even—hadn't been kind to him. I was adding to his pain, and I needed to be easing it. Thankfully, I recognized that fact, and I walked down the last two steps, my feet leaving wet prints as I pattered across the room to Chris. I brought my hand up to his cheek and rested my palm there. I wanted him to feel my warmth and relax, and within seconds, his eyes were fluttering closed.

Chris stepped forward and gathered me in a hug, and I felt the hardness of the object in his hand as it pressed into my back while he held me. I stroked his hair, trading off between massaging his scalp and kissing the top of his head. "I haven't exactly been the best support system lately, and I know that. So much happened this past week, and there's no amount of times I can apologize for what I did that will make it feel good enough. No matter what I say, it doesn't change the fact that I walked out on you. I was wrong, and I'm really sorry. That's not enough, but I am."

"Nah, it's enough," Chris said. "I'm just happy you came back."

"Will you talk to me, please?"

"I could ask the same of you."

"Okay, you're right, let's both talk," I said. I pulled back and rubbed Chris's neck. "I'd love to sit down and get everything out in the open."

"I don't have time anymore to sit down and sip coffee while we share our feelings. The time for that is over."

"Okay…?" I said, tipping my head.

"I'll just come out with it," Chris said. He took a deep breath and looked down at my right hand, which was dangling at my side. "I want that ring back."

"What?" I gasped. My heart pounded in my chest until it was almost the only sound I could make out. I knew this was the end. This was the point where we would break up, and it was going to hurt like hell.

"The ring I gave you. It doesn't feel right for you to wear it anymore. I want you to take it off."

Now, I should preface what I did next by explaining that I did care that Chris was asking for the ring back. It was tearing me in two. I wanted to scream and cry, plead and sob, but no amount of fit-throwing could have stopped things from being the way they were. I had been the one to leave, and now I was suffering the consequences. What else could I do? Be angry with him for feeling betrayed by me? That was exactly what I had done. Betrayed him.

Defensively, I raised my hand and snatched it off my right ring finger. "Fine. Take it."

I didn't hand it to him, though. I tossed it at him and it pinged off of his chest and landed on the carpet, right between our feet. I decided to scram before I completely lost my cool and everything else went to hell, so I spun around, planning on racing up the stairs, but there was his commanding voice again, this time more gentle. "I didn't say you had to leave."

"I don't care," I tossed over my shoulder. He was entitled to get the ring back, but I was always a fighter, even when I knew I was wrong. I'm not sure why I'm saying that in the past tense, because it's definitely still a weakness of mine. "There's nothing left to talk about. Maybe I should just pack my stuff and go back home like I was going to in the first place!"

"Or you could say yes when I ask you to marry me," Chris said.

I had to have heard him wrong, so I kept stomping up the stairs. It wasn't until I reached the top that I looked back and didn't see him coming up after me, which was odd. Whenever I was upset, it didn't take long for Chris to fallow. He was always trying to talk me down from ledges whenever I lost my cool, and maybe I was expecting too much, but I didn't see why this time would be any different. Then, my delayed brain processed what he had actually called up after me. Marriage. Yes, that was it. He had mentioned something about marriage.

By this point, high emotion was giving way to plain old curiosity, and since I heard no movement from downstairs, I backtracked, taking the steps slowly until I made it three quarters of the way down again. I think I first caught sight of his pajamas. He was wearing these plaid, blue pajama bottoms with a white shirt, and I was confused because I couldn't see his feet anymore. All I spotted were his thighs. I stepped down twice more and it clicked that he was on the floor. On his knees. On one knee, to be exact. I went numb when I realized this was a proposal, to the point that my legs nearly buckled underneath me.

I caught myself somehow and stumbled back down to the bottom of the stairs, my face freezing in a grimace right before twisting into the stereotypical ugly cry face. I cried for everything. For my mistreatment of Chris, for the damage I had done to our bond, for the love I had for the man in front of me, but most of all, I cried because he actually wanted to marry me and I was no longer entirely convinced I deserved that honor. Who was I to allow him to put a ring on my finger after I had walked out on him once, and had been preparing to do the same again, only a matter of seconds earlier?

My reaction confused the heck out of Chris. I couldn't really see him clearly through my tears, but I made out his rising form as he stood up, then I watched him move closer until he was right in front of me. He slid his arms around my waist and I lay my head on his shoulder and let everything out. All the anguish and stress, and even the regret and loss. I felt a deep sense of loss, like there had been a shift in our relationship that couldn't be repaired. Had Chris been the one to walk out on me for any reason, I don't know that I could have stayed with him. It would have created a level of distrust that probably would have sent me running for the hills.

I couldn't see any way to go through with marrying him had he been the one to leave me, which is why I couldn't imagine how he wanted this. I failed him. I failed the both of us. When my cries died down and I wasn't quite so loud anymore, Chris moved my hair away from my face and brought his lips down to my exposed ear.

"This wasn't really how I imagined this. I mean, I thought you might cry, but I was planning on happy tears, not sad ones," he said. He rubbed the spot between my shoulder blades and that made me feel a little better, but not much. Since I didn't respond, he helped fill in the blanks. "I had this whole big plan for how I might propose in a few weeks, but you walked in on me just now with the ring, so I thought like, it's either now or never, ya know?"

I sniffled and wiped away some of the wetness that had transferred from my face onto his shoulder. "I'm so upset."

"Why, honey?"

"Because."

"Because, why?"

"I ruined everything."

"Nah, no, you didn't. I did all that myself," Chris said. "When you came and talked to me that first time at work, I was mostly suspicious, but I was also pretty glad. You were sweet, and you seemed legit, but I couldn't trust that on its own. You were a McMahon, and my only real experience with you guys was that you were shady and didn't actually want anything to do with me. That sounds horrible, but that was all I knew of you guys at the time."

"That makes me feel worse," I mumbled. He kissed the back of my head and rubbed my back a little more firmly.

"I don't want you to feel bad. The thing is, Steph, when I broke things off with you that first time we separated, part of it could have been to get back at Vince, 'cause I know deep down I always wanted to, but a bigger part of me was waiting for the ax to drop. I kind of thought you were playing me and that you would eventually tell me you weren't being serious and that you never cared about me in the first place, so maybe part of it was just me wanting to strike first."

"We slept together," I pointed out. "If I were faking my feelings for you, don't you think I would have avoided getting it on with you so early?"

"If I had been thinking straight, I would have realized that, but I was a dumbass. I guess I still am."

"Don't say that."

"I'll take full responsibility for when you walked out of here the other night," Chris said. I tried to argue, but he shushed me. "No, wait a minute, let me finish. I take responsibility for it, because you know what? I was the one to plant that seed of doubt in your head. I was the one who made you question everything that had ever happened between us. I can't imagine how shitty that must have been for you, wondering how much of what I said was real and how much was fake. I get why you reacted the way you did to whatever your dad said, and I don't blame you for it. I'm not mad, I'm not bitter, and actually, I'm not anything except a little mindfucked by you leaving, but that's only because you're everything to me and I hated you being gone. If I had my way, we would be together all the time."

I locked my arms around his neck. "That's what I want, too. I didn't want to leave, but I just...Dad just told me..."

"I know," Chris said. "I know he told you some shit, and none of it was true, but I understand why you reacted that way. I can't erase the past, but I can build on it. I'm not sure there's a way for me to fix everything I broke, but I'll tell you this, I'm happy to spend every day for the rest of my life getting every bit of your trust back. I don't really care how long it takes. It can be months, it can be years, I don't give a shit. When you were gone, all I thought about was finding a way to get you back. That was all I wanted. It was miserable without you."

"I was miserable without you, too. I couldn't think straight, or eat, or drink, or do anything. I just felt so depressed and nauseous. The whole time I was gone, I felt like I needed to throw up. It's like my body knew I was making the wrong decision and was trying to warn me," I shared. I closed my eyes and sighed. "I don't want this drama anymore. I try not to live like that. Like, when I come home, I always want it to be calm. I just want to get along with whoever I'm living with and have a good time."

"I know. You're sweet like that. You need peace and harmony to thrive."

"Yeah."

"I know," he said, holding me a little closer.

"Do you really want to marry me?"

"Of course I do. How could I not?" Chris replied. "We're obviously happy together, but because of the way I handled our relationship in the beginning, I feel like it's easy for people to get in your head and send you running. I'll tell you what, Steph, I never want to feel as devastated as I felt when I looked out the window the other night and saw you leaving. It was like a death in my family, being here and having you gone. I didn't know what to do without you, and if the only way I can prove how serious I am is to put a ring on your finger, then that's what I'll do. I want you to marry me, and then you won't have to wonder ever again how serious I am."

This finally got me to raise my head. I pressed my forehead into Chris's and the tips of our noses squished together. "I don't want you to marry me to keep me here. I want you to do it because you love me and you feel like it's the right move for both of us."

"I do, and I do."

"But if I hadn't left, would you be asking me this right now?"

"Um, yeah," Chris said, frowning. "This was always the plan. I've told you multiple times that I want us to get married and have kids. That's not something new that just came to me out of thin air."

"But you're pushing it forward because of what happened."

"No," he said, shaking his head, "I'm pushing it forward because I don't want to live another day without you. I don't ever want to come back to a home that you're not living in. I don't want to wake up in bed and not have you next to me. I don't want to eat breakfast, lunch, or dinner without you in the chair next to me. When I lived here by myself, before you and I ever started talking or dating, I did whatever I had to do to get through each day. I wasn't really living. I existed, sure, but I wasn't living. I didn't come alive until I met you, and it wasn't until you moved up here that I realized I actually looked forward to waking up every morning, and it's because you were here. I never want to lose that."

"I don't want to lose it, either."

At some point, he must have picked up the ring I tossed at him, because when he raised his hand in front of my face, it was hanging off of his thumb. "I asked you to take this off because it's not for you anymore. This is for our son, if we ever have one. When he starts dating and he meets someone really special, he can give this to that person."

"I thought you said it was for our future daughter."

Chris looked puzzled. "When did I say that?"

"When you first gave it to me," I answered. "You said we could pass it onto our daughter one day."

"Oh," he shrugged, chuckling, "no, I meant our son. He would pass it on to the girl of his choice and so on."

"Okay, then."

"But that's what this ring is for. This, however, is for you," Chris said, pulling the hidden ring box out and opening it. I smiled like a goon as the diamond he revealed sparkled under the lamplight. The ring was beautiful, but by that point, I wouldn't have cared if it were a solid gold band with no decoration. All that mattered to me was what it represented. Chris plucked it from the box and reached for my left hand, which I gave him without a fight. He balanced the band at the start of my left ring finger and held it there. "I'm probably doing a really shitty job of this but, one, you caught me off guard coming down here early and, two, I never gave much thought before this year as to how I might propose to anyone, mainly because I never thought I would have anyone to propose to, but now I do, so here we are."

"You're doing perfect," I said, leaning forward and kissing his lips. He moved in and kissed me back. "I love you."

"I love you, too, so much. I never knew I could feel this way about someone. Before we started talking, I was pretty much mentally preparing myself to be alone for the rest of my life, but then you came along, and dating you was a game changer. You were the one who made me realize like, no, I can have a normal life. I can find someone who loves me for me and doesn't give a shit about how I look. I can find a light at the end of this long and dark tunnel I've been stuck in since I was 15 years old. With you, all the things I thought were impossible became a reality, and I don't ever want to stop feeling like this. I'm never going to be ready for this to end. I want to start and finish every single day with you. I want us to be together when things are good, and I especially want to stick together when things are shitty," Chris said. His heart was pouring out right into a puddle at our feet. This was the most raw he had ever been. "Life without you isn't a life I ever want to live again. Please, if you feel how I feel and you don't want to be without me either, please say yes. Will you marry me, Steph?"

I cupped his cheek and softened under his passionate gaze, pushing away the nervous flutters in my belly. Nothing had ever felt more right than this. "I can't think of anything on this earth I would rather do than spend the rest of my life with you. My answer's yes. Let's get married."

Chris slid the ring all the way onto my finger and kissed me for a long time. He didn't need to say anything else. Everything he had left to convey was felt in his kiss. He knew I was sorry, and I knew he forgave me. He communicated to me how sorry he was, too, and I made sure to let him know, without a need for words, that I forgave him, too. Every negative feeling I had come downstairs with evaporated into thin air and I was left only with the joy and excitement that a marriage proposal could bring. I was already internally picturing my wedding dress and the venue, not to mention the cheers as we walked back down the aisle hand in hand as husband and wife.

When he pulled away from me, I beamed at him, then looked down at my hand to check out my ring. "It's so beautiful. When did you buy this?"

"A while back. It was shortly after we got back together again, and I felt us headed in this direction, so I thought I would pick out a ring and save it for when the time was right."

"Oh my gosh, I just want to tell everybody!" I said, bringing my hands up to my flushed cheeks. Chris laughed and held onto my hips. "I have to call my mom."

"I hope she'll be excited for us."

"Oh, jeez, are you kidding? She's going to be thrilled!"

"Good," he said. "My dad will be, too."

"Where are we going to live?" I asked, running the tip of my finger over the gem Chris had planted on me. "Winnipeg or Greenwich?"

"I don't care. As long as I'm with you, I'm good," Chris said. "Hell, we can just buy a house together in Greenwich and go back and forth from here to there as we see fit."

"But with kids, they have to have a home base where they go to school and have their friends and stuff. We can't move them back and forth like that."

"Yeah, well I don't exactly have that part covered yet," he said. He tipped his head and gave me the funniest smirk. "I only have the brainpower for the proposal tonight."

I playfully swatted his head to the side. "Nerd."

"We're really doing this, huh?"

"We are," I nodded, bouncing on my feet. "I'm so happy."

"Yeah?" Chris asked. He kissed my chin, then followed my jawline down to my neck. "Did we chase your blues away?"

"I don't even remember what blues are," I said. I gasped when he hooked his thumbs in the sides of my towel and sent it spiraling to the floor. We didn't bother returning upstairs. We decided the living room floor was perfectly fit for celebrating upon. When, at last, we had our fill of each other, instead of falling asleep in bed, we fell asleep on the floor, still tucked away in the other's arms.

It was the best night of sleep I had ever gotten.