Two more chapters to go after this which I've been rewriting and again. Thank you so much for sticking with this so far. It's the first time I've ever written such an epic beast (though not sure cake really counts but y'know…) Massive thanks to Cocobacon who doesn't know this but their 'Harry taking the lead' inspired this extra chapter!
The toaster should wake him up. They're jet-lagged and Harry didn't think she'll eat again yet the smell of toast is enticing her. Two weeks of his mother's cooking was glorious. Dempsey remarked that she looked better for all of it. He does too. They've really needed this holiday.
He surprised her with the tickets and a booking at a fine hotel hinting that he wanted time together. A small space to call their own after busy days. She loved her afternoon with Dempsey's mother and sister in Bloomingdales. They met up with Thelma for tea. They had dinner around the crowded table at his mother's house most days, visited his childhood haunts, and danced merrily in a bar with him and his former colleagues.
Throughout it all, she got used to being so proud to arrive and leave with him and for being the girl who got the guy. When they stood at the top of the Empire State Building, she ran out of words to thank him.
Watching the kettle boil, looking at the grey skies of London, Harry lightly taps her nails on the worktop. She's so lost in thought that she doesn't hear his footsteps. "Morning, honey…. oh! Afternoon… Jesus, I ought to be used to jet lag." He peers at the clock on the oven.
"You sleep okay?" He asks. She loves that he's careful in how he approaches her. Once he knows she's registered his presence, he wraps her up in a warm hug.
"Yes, perfect. Almost back to normal, but it feels weird waking up in the afternoon." She nestles into his neck, feels the warmth of his body under her hands. He smells of sleep and bedclothes and she murmurs her contentment.
"We've gone to bed loads o' times in the afternoon…" He grins and moves his hands over her body, his kiss is as exciting as the first time.
They've argued already and somehow that's made them more solid. A small spit over his ex, Simone when they were in New York. Harry saw how the collision of past and present had unnerved him and that he needed her support even if he was rubbish at telling her. His reticience had caused the argument. Over drinks, his ex had shared stories, interspersed with observations about how well he suited Harry. She ended up rather liking Simone much to her surprise and Dempsey's bemusement. Nevertheless Harry claimed him in the privacy of their hotel room.
A few weeks ago they'd fallen out over him losing her car keys. She yelled that she didn't need his help and instantly regretted it when he stormed out on a curse. He arrived home a few hours later bearing flowers and found her red-eyed on the sofa. Sheepishly he handed her the bloody keys. They were in his pocket all along.
She'd understood at that moment, that he's absolutely nothing like Robert and they can argue without threats, and she felt the strange emotion of invincibility. They made love for what felt like hours, perhaps it was the relief of knowing they'd reached another milestone. He'd given her a dollar the following day, called it their lucky piece of silver and she made a private vow of her own to herself.
Today is the day to make good on that promise.
"You sure you're okay? You're miles away." Dempsey has made them each a sandwich which he eats in several bites. She nibbles on hers and considers him.
"I was thinking about when you first came here." Harry recalls, looking around the space. "You looked so at home even then. We danced around the living room."
Dempsey leans against the counter, "Yeah, I remember that. You made that amazing cake." He puts the teapot on the table beside her.
"I should make it again." Harry smiles and asks a question that she'd forgotten about until he's reminded her, "'What was your wish when you blew out the candles?"
Dempsey pulls up the chair opposite her and sits down. He's found his sweatshirt from last night and tugs it over his head. She looks regretfully at him and he chuckles. "My wish was to never let you go."
Harry is comforted by his directness, it's going to make everything else easier for her. She watches him cut a slice of cake.
"James, will you marry me?" She asks suddenly. He looks surprised, his food paused midway to his mouth. He puts it back on the plate with a look of happy confusion.
"Yeah, but, I mean Jeez, yes…" He's delightfully misunderstood her question and she adores him for it. "But shouldn't I be getting down on one knee or asking Freddy for permission?"
"It's February 29th, I'm asking you to marry me, but since you mention it…" Harry slips from the chair and kneels on the floor, not without a wince from the cold tiles. "Jim Dempsey, will you make an honest woman of me?"
In the evening light of London, Dempsey looks at his fiancée as her head rests on his lap, and he turns the pages of the book he's reading under the bedside light. The word has escaped his lips several times during their private celebration. He had been uncertain if she'd even want to marry again but her words at the top of the Empire State Building were enough to nudge him to ask Freddy's permission and take a risk. It's completely typical and brave of her to ask him first.
He can't wait to call their families, he thinks Freddy might already know. Tomorrow he'll buy her a ring.