Summary: An important conversation.
A/N: Remember the demise of my 'r' key? Now the 'i' has jumped ship too. RIP, little i.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I Get To Love You
THIRTY ONE WEEKS — Coconut (continued)
Ben couldn't get out of there fast enough.
He managed to avoid the squealing tires of hastily peeling out of the driveway, but just barely. He accelerated too abruptly, drove too quickly, took the winding turns away from his parent's house too sharply. He didn't even realize how roughly he was driving until, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rey surreptitiously grab at the door to stabilize herself. He immediately eased off the gas, cringing at himself.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
She glanced at him. He could feel it, but didn't turn to look.
"It's okay," she said softly. "I know you're upset."
Upset. That was putting it mildly.
"It's...that doesn't matter. I shouldn't scare you," he managed to sigh, even though his whole body still felt tense, and when he closed his mouth, his teeth still ground together.
Rey didn't say anything to that.
Ben knew they should probably talk. He needed to do damage control. More importantly, he needed to know what thoughts were rattling around inside her head, because that's where the true danger lurked. But he couldn't approach that right now. He needed to calm down first. Maybe he was experiencing a major overreaction to a mild irritant, but it's just that everything had been going so well, so much better than he ever imagined, and then, like a nightmare, he'd watched that good day catch fire right before his eyes.
And he still didn't even really understand how it happened.
The hospital tour had been, from his perspective, a relative success. He appreciated the abundance of practical information they got there, but even more than that, he appreciated how reassured Rey seemed by all of it. She emerged calmer, more confident. Completely the opposite of how she acted after the last session of that inane birthing class. And Ben felt better, because he knew he'd be pretty much helpless to do anything for her when showtime happened, so if he could make it the least bit less terrifying now, he considered it his responsibility to do so. It seemed to work. She was almost her old self again after.
And then at his parents house, that went well at first too. His mother was helpful and accommodating. The birthing video didn't show any of the kind of images which he knew scared Rey. They scared him too, though he thought it wouldn't help her to admit it. He wasn't the one who'd have to go through it. He'd just have to watch. God, those birthing class videos had made him feel like he'd committed some atrocious evil, condemning her to that for his sake. Just so that seven months ago, he could indulge in a more satisfying finish. What a cost for five seconds of bliss.
But the one at his parent's house hadn't made him feel so guilty. And he'd seen its effect on Rey. He watched how she relaxed. How she'd laughed. How she actually seemed to enjoy talking about birth for the first time, because Ben's father couldn't shut up, and for whatever reason, Rey loved that.
They had a weird thing, Ben decided. Rey and his father. A kind of camaraderie neither Ben nor his mother could quite get a handle on. It was as if the pair had already known each other for a long time, and were completely comfortable together. It was good, of course — Ben was glad that she found it easy to get along with the man he himself found so exasperating — but sometimes, he got a little...mystified. Like the space for Rey had been carved into his family long, long ago and had been there waiting for her. Like Han knew it, too, the way he just accepted her as his daughter. As his favorite daughter, in fact.
But that inexplicable bond worked against Ben this time. Somehow, everything went sideways. Rey got bothered by...something, and Ben didn't even have a chance to unriddle it before his father had clued in and suddenly launched into talk about marriage, of all things. And then his parents ran wild planning everything, and Ben watched in horror as everything spiraled out of control, and he panicked.
Because Rey didn't want that.
He knew she didn't. She'd said as much multiple times before.
Ben knew she was happy with the way things were now. They'd had the best summer of their lives — Ben knew it was true for himself, and the way she'd laughed so easily, the way she'd grinned her sunshine grins, the way she'd positively jumped his bones every chance she got, he knew it was true for her too. So he told himself he could be content with this, what they had right now, for the rest of his life. He told himself he would never pressure her into giving him more, when she'd already given so much. He was happy. Life was good.
And his parents were going to ruin it.
"Kinda going a little fast again there, Senna," said Rey.
Ben blinked, checked the speedometer, winced and eased off yet again. He sighed, scrubbing the stress out of his forehead with one hand. "Sorry, I'm sorry."
She let go of the door handle, adjusting her seatbelt. "Do you want to talk about it yet?"
Her voice was...small. And quiet. And something in it made Ben's breath catch unpleasantly. He risked a glance at her, sitting there with a nervous, vulnerable look on her face. Those little puckers of tension above her brows, her normally wide mouth made small and thin. Ugh. He hated to see her like that, because it always, always accompanied a sense of insecurity which she did not deserve to feel.
"I guess we should," he said slowly, even though he did not want to talk about it yet. Not at all. He didn't know if he could stomach hearing her say what he knew she'd inevitably say about it.
But if it would soothe that look off her face, he'd talk. He'd agree to anything. He'd throw himself into an active volcano if he thought it would make her happy.
She exhaled softly. "Right now?"
No. Not here. If they had to do this, he wanted it to be where he could touch her, could hold her, if he needed. "If I promise to watch my speed carefully, can we just put it off until we get home?"
"Yeah," she said, mustering a little smile. Then, apparently making a more valiant effort to rally, she turned that smile into a soft laugh. "You know, before it all went downhill, I was having a really nice time."
"Yeah?" He tried to take some measure of comfort from this.
With another glance, he saw the smile grow, become more genuine. "Seeing how they got through it, that they can laugh about it now, it made it seem a lot less scary. I'm not terrified anymore. So thank you. In one day, you managed to do what I think six weeks of that other class couldn't have accomplished."
God, he loved her. How did she do that? With just a few words, much of the tension ratcheted up in every one of his muscles dissolved. Even in the midst of his disproportionate crisis, he felt a swoop of pride. Of satisfaction. He could take care of her. He knew what she needed. He wasn't screwing this all up. So maybe, if he could get this situation under control and reassure her that his parents' bewilderingly sudden enthusiasm for marriage didn't mean she had to go along with it, if he could make her feel safe and unthreatened again, maybe everything would be fine.
"Good," he said a little brokenly. "I'm...glad. We got this. I've got you. You're — you'e going to be okay."
Her hand slid over his arm. He darted a glance at her again. She tugged his one hand off the steering wheel, lacing their fingers together.
"Yeah," she said softly. "Everything will be fine."
Ben had a feeling they weren't just talking about her delivery now. He let himself breathe easier again, her touch and words a soothing balm. Maybe Rey didn't really care that much about his parents going off, planning a wedding she didn't want. Maybe she could just shrug it off.
"My parents..." he ventured cautiously, testing the water, "they mean well."
"I think they do, yes." Her voice was still soft. She turned to look out the window, keeping a firm grasp on his hand.
The rest of the drive was quiet. Ben turned on the radio, focusing on the music so he didn't start to climb the wall of tension again. He kept up a steady mantra in his head, comforting himself. She's not going to run because of meddlesome parents. I'll make her feel safe. I'll let her know that she belongs.
Back at home, Rey went directly to the kitchen for a snack. Ben kicked off his shoes and collapsed face-down on the couch. It was too short for him, really, so he propped his feet up on the arm rest. He turned his face, staring out at his bookshelf and listened to her rummaging around. The scene at his parent's house ran through his head again. Insurance. Buying a home. The south lawn. How convenient.
He closed his eyes. Based on her sounds, he guessed Rey was making a sandwich. Probably a Nutella-and-raspberry-jam sandwich, according to her recent preferences. She'd made Ben try it once. He didn't care for chocolate as much as she did, so he didn't find the exquisite joy she declared it had, but it wasn't terrible. It reminded him of one of those artisan ice creams they'd tried a few weeks ago. It did have an obscene amount of sugar, but Ben knew better than to try to suggest something healthier.
He sighed. It really had been a great summer so far. No reason to think one silly scene from his overeager parents would disrupt this pleasant dynamic. She'd spent a week with them at the lake. She saw how they could be. No need to panic.
Ben decided that what he was experiencing now was definitely an overreaction. A gift from his Skywalker heritage. His grandfather, Luke, and Ben, they all had a penchant for spiraling quickly when caught off guard by something unpleasant. He just needed to get a hold of himself.
Rey came over to the arm chair and sat down, propping her feet up on the coffee table. She balanced her plate on her belly like a table. Ben smirked a little at the sight.
"Sorry your dad kept talking about your balls, by the way," she said, snickering as she took a bite of her sandwich. Ben could smell the hazelnut from here. Definitely Nutella.
"You were thinking about...that?" He shot her a cheeky look.
"Oh, I'm always thinking about your balls, big man," she teased.
He huffed a chuckle, rolling up to a sit where he tipped his head back against the back of the couch. "Honestly, he's probably just jealous because his are so old and saggy they float to the top the water when he takes a bath."
That surprised a laugh out of her, and she had to grab her plate to steady it again. "Ben! That's quite a thing to say about your own father!"
He grinned. "I mean, I'm probably not wrong."
She hummed around another bite. "He had a lot to say for someone who doesn't remember what happened thirty years ago."
"I don't know how useful any of it was," Ben sighed, "he talks a lot of nonsense."
"Oh, it was plenty useful." She grinned. "I imagine there will be plenty of moments, when it happens, when I'll remember your parents and laugh."
He made an exaggerated grimace. "Wonderful. So even if they're not in the room with us, they'll be in the room with us."
Even though he was joking, Ben really didn't want anyone there who didn't have to be. He sensed already that it was gong to be a defining moment in his life and hers. Nobody else deserved to be part of that. It was Rey's catabasis into the valley of the shadow, and Ben's watch to keep. He was grateful, at least, that his mother understood that much. He thought she understood the marriage thing too, which is why the whole discussion blindsided him. He frowned again at the memory.
Watching him carefully, Rey said with a great deal of awareness, "Uh-oh, your mood turned again."
He glanced up at her, surprised to see her sandwich mostly gone. Sometimes it still astonished him how quickly she could eat, even after all this time. He sighed again. "Sorry. I guess I'm still a little bothered."
"More than a little," she observed, standing to take her plate back to the kitchen. When she returned, she sat down next to him. "I think maybe you don't want to talk about it, so we don't have to. If you'd rather we just put on a movie or you need to go work out to get through it, I get it. We can pretend that...argument...never happened."
A generous exit. He could take her up on it and put the whole thing behind them. But there was tomorrow's dinner to consider, and it would keep lurking there like an elephant in the room. Maybe she'd prefer that, so she didn't have to tell him again that she didn't want the whole marriage gig. And since he wasn't eager to hear her say that, it probably was the safest course of action. To forget it. To move on.
But Ben didn't think he should do that. She'd had that look on her face in the car. The look that told him she was feeling unsafe. He couldn't let this night fade away with her still feeling like that.
"No," he said, steeling himself against the discomfort this conversation would surely bring. "We should, I think. I need you to tell me about the birth certificate thing. Because I don't think I understand what happened there. You were experiencing something. What was it?"
"Oh," she shifted, leaning against the back of the couch so she was facing him. "We were supposed to talk about your reaction, not mine."
"We'll get there, but I need to figure out how any of it got started. And best I can tell, it started with you getting uncomfortable about something."
Rey took a deep breath, her gaze drifting away from him, the tension returning to her brow. "It's so stupid, Ben. Really. It doesn't matter."
"If it means something to you, then it matters."
She sighed. "I don't want you to read into it. I know you, and I know you will. I'll tell you, and you'll want to fix it, and then I'll feel like I trapped you into something you definitely didn't want to do."
"How do you know I don't want to do it? If it makes you feel better, trust me, I want to."
"Not this. You were very clear about how you feel back there."
"Very clear? How? It wasn't clear to me. The only thing I expressed back there was anger at my parents for overstepping. But this? I don't know how I feel about what you won't tell me." He didn't want to get frustrated, but he could feel it there, flickering at the edges. He did want to fix it, because anything that bothered her was personally offensive to him. He knew he couldn't remove all thorns from her life, and maybe it wasn't totally healthy to even want to try, but right now he didn't care. Something pricked her, somehow it made his dad launch into marriage talk, and now she felt unsafe. He had to fix it.
She regarded him warily. Like she wasn't sure if he was about to combust. Ben took a deep breath and spoke more gently now. "My father said something about names. But you'd just told me ten seconds before that it didn't have to do with our lack of name."
"Not hers," she said, motioning vaguely at her roundness. "Mine."
He frowned, confused. "You have a name."
"Right." Her cheeks puffed and she released the air in a slow, reluctant breath. "It's really not important, okay? It's just…hormones. I can't control the way I feel. You know that."
He nodded, but didn't say anything. That was too dangerous to get into. Rey wasn't wildly emotional, but then, her baseline before pregnancy was already lower than a lot of people's. She held things in. So now, when she operated on what Ben considered a normal level of emotion, she felt out of control. He didn't want to affirm or deny her own perception of herself and thereby make her angry.
"So…" She hesitated again. "Seeing that birth certificate with everyone's name on it in that silly video did something to me. Last names don't matter, I know they don't matter, but suddenly I felt like…you and the baby, you'll share one, and there I'll be…like some random woman." Ben opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand and forged on. "And I know that's not really how it'll be, and last names do not define a family. So like I said, it's stupid, and it's probably hormones. You've said that we would be a family, and I think we kind of are, or we will be, and you have no idea how badly I want that. How I…I need to be part of it. It was just a moment. A fleeting discomfort. So it doesn't matter what your dad said. I'm already happy with what we have and I didn't mean for your parents to start pressuring you. I don't think I realized how strongly you felt about not getting married, or else I would have shut your dad down right away. I'm sorry."
Ben's blood had turned to ice with his dawning horror as he realized what she was saying. That's why his dad said the thing about Ben holding out on her. And he'd — oh, he'd messed up. He'd messed up horribly. There she was, trying to reconcile her feelings of knowing her name didn't matter but feeling as if it mattered very much, and his father had spotted it, and then Ben had to — lose his mind — and now — oh god, what did she think he thought?
"Shit," he whispered, his voice gone hoarse. "I don't—"
"Ben," she said quickly, her hazel eyes widening, "It's okay. Honestly. I'm so happy, I don't need anything more, I don't want you be obligated—"
"Stop." He stood up. "You've got it all wrong, Rey. I'm not obligated. God. No. That's…that's the opposite of how I feel."
Her words died on her lips, and she closed her mouth, brow puckering again as she tried to understand.
Ben paced around, restless once more. "I've — The reason I freaked out was because I didn't want my parents to propose to you for me, which is where I saw all that nonsense headed, and it terrified me—"
She got to her feet in a rush, catching him in his stride, her hands finding his forearms, looking up at him with that concerned look. "Ben, it's okay. It's okay." She reached up to brush the hair away from his forehead in an unconscious, soothing gesture. "Forget it. It's nothing. I don't expect anything from you. Remember? You asked way back when I told you I was pregnant if I wanted you to marry me, and I said no. There's no obligation here. You don't have to be terrified."
He caught her hand before she could lower it again, pressing a kiss into her palm. "I'm not afraid of marriage, Rey. I — I want it, you have no idea how much, and I couldn't — I couldn't listen to you say—"
God, he was shaking now. Why was he shaking? His emotions heaved like a roiling sea. It was hard to talk about this with her, because he'd put it out of his mind for so long. He didn't think they'd ever need to talk about, that they'd ever really get here.
Rey's eyes were wide, but she didn't say anything.
He exhaled unsteadily. "You're right. You have said no before. They were goading you into saying it again, and I couldn't stomach it. And I was afraid that their meddling would…frighten you. Make you second guess all of this."
Oh, what he wouldn't give to know what thoughts ran through her head now, what made her pull her hand out of his, what made her step backwards. He could feel the panic creeping back in. Dammit. He'd done what he feared doing, he'd scared her. He was messing this up again. She'd misunderstand, and she'd think —
"No, no, sweetheart, that's not—" he began, trying to fix it, trying to make it better.
But Rey's mouth opened and he cut himself off with a gasp, needing to hear what she had to say more than he needed to reassure her. She paused, and then said in an exhale, "Second guess you?"
"What?" He blinked, a little thrown.
"You said you were afraid their meddling would make me second guess this. There is no this without you. So what you're really saying is you were afraid I'd doubt you. But Ben, I don't, I couldn't. I know you. You're not just some guy I'm learning to trust. I love you, and I'm in this. I'm not running. I want to be with you, on whatever terms you need. If you don't want to marry me ever, that's okay. I don't need it to be happy. I just need you."
His heart stumbled into a new, rapid beat. "But I do…I do want to marry you, Rey. I've wanted that from the beginning. I thought it was you who didn't want it."
She ran her teeth over her lower lip. "I didn't think I did. Before. Feels like a lifetime ago. But that was when I was afraid of things changing. When I thought that was just what people expected because I got pregnant. Some old holdout from a more traditional time. It didn't seem like a good reason. We talked about that. But things have already changed so much, and I know that for me, what I feel for you is so much deeper than this situation we're in. I'm not afraid anymore."
Was she saying what he thought she was saying?
"So…" He had to be sure. The time for misunderstandings was over. He couldn't let half-truths and wild assumptions dictate his actions anymore. "So you do want to…?"
Color bloomed in her cheeks and her eyes lowered. "Not if you don't, Ben. But if you do, then…yes. I think I do."
It was like running headfirst into a brick wall. The impact left him dazed, reeling. The whole world lurched under his feet. What had just happened? She really just said—? It was madness. It wasn't real. He'd wake up and realize this was just another fantasy carried on the wind in the soft tufts of dandelion seeds. How had they gone from strictly friends with a little indulgence on the side to this conversation, right now? He couldn't trace the steps between them, even though he'd been there for all of it.
And what kind of special brand of idiots were they, that that this whole misunderstanding came because they were each trying to protect what they thought the other wanted, when it turned out they wanted...they wanted the same thing?
Ben's mind finally caught up, and something clicked into a place. A realization. It was right now. The moment.
No, no! This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He looked around helplessly. No way to make this more romantic. No way to make this a proper, dreamy proposal the way it should be. He could ask her to wait, to give him time to do it right. But he was afraid that this moment was some fleeting fancy, and once it was gone he'd never get it back. He couldn't wait. What he'd always wanted, the fulfillment of all his dreams, it was right here, in front of his fingertips. If he let it go now…
Barely able to breathe, Ben went to her, gently pushing her back until she sat down on the couch. He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead, his voice coming out a shaky whisper. "Just give me one second, okay?"
With that, he dashed away, vaulting the stairs three at a time until he was in his bedroom. He went to his mirror and raked through his hair, smoothing his shirt. No, it was hopelessly wrinkled. With trembling fingers he undid the buttons, pulling it off in haste. Rifling through his closet, he found something he knew she liked. A soft blue thing with sleeves rolled to the elbows. Once he had it on, he re-assessed in the mirror. Was it good? Good enough for her? Worthy? A noise of frustration escaped him and he turned to his dresser.
He yanked open the sock drawer, rifling through until his fingers found the soft velvet of the black ring box. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest now, thundering through him with nerves and excitement and something exhilarating he couldn't name. He pulled the ring out, careful and reverent. Would she like it? It was different…not a diamond, not designer, not silver or white gold like everything these days. If she didn't, would he be okay with that?
Yes, he decided. He'd put his grandmother's ring somewhere special and get her what she wanted. Because it didn't matter what hardware she wore as long as it was something that tied her to him.
Tucking the ring into his fist, he ran back down the stairs, pounding down them with all the grace of a buffalo. If he could have leapt down all of them, he would have.
Rey still sat there on the couch, looking bewildered and amused and nervous and so, so beautiful. A little disheveled, a little imperfect, entirely real. The best thing he'd ever seen. Ben felt like he couldn't breathe when he finally returned to her, and it had nothing to do with his mad dash up and down stairs. She gave him a curious look, like she wanted to ask something, but he shook his head to discourage her. He got down onto his knees in front of her, scooting in between her thighs, breath coming in soft, nervous puffs.
"This isn't at all how I imagined it would happen. How I thought I'd do this," he admitted. "I wanted it to be more…special... than just a moment in my living room after having a fight with my parents. But I can't let you go one more minute without knowing I have wanted to marry you since the night we first met. Remember? You were in that bar, surrounded by your friends, laughing like the whole world delighted you. I was conquered from that very moment. You've been a steady light in my life, Rey, guiding me home. My ridiculous, messy, funny, wild friend. I'm...I'm overwhelmed by you. All the time. I get nervous. I get awe-struck. I know what you've been through. I see how you fight against it every day, proving to yourself and everyone else that you are not disposable. I've never known anyone as strong as you. How you can manage to find so much joy when you've seen so much ugliness. You spread sunshine everywhere you go. And you deserve to feel nothing less than wanted, and cherished, and adored. I want to make you feel that way. I want to show you how worthy of love you are. Over the years, I've always tried to be whatever you needed, because I wanted you to feel the way that you make me feel. Whole."
Her fingers fluttered to his jaw, grazing along the sides of his face with feather-light touches. She swallowed.
Ben ran a palm over her bump, his gaze dropping to that glorious curve, the swell that entranced him. "And I'm not sorry that everything got turned upside down. I'm not sorry we spent quarantine together, I'm not sorry that we didn't read the drug sheet. I'm not sorry that you're the only girl I've ever been so reckless with. Because now we have a — a daughter on the way, and I've never been more in love with you. Every day we get to walk another step down this path together, I fall further. I would have been happy to live my whole life this way. But there's more for us, if we're willing to reach for it. So I guess I do have a question for you."
The steady rise and fall of her chest stopped. Ben didn't look up to see what expression was on her face yet. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her belly. "My tiny olive, I'm going to ask your mama if she'll be my wife. See if you can persuade her, okay?"
A soft, hitched breath caught his attention, and his gaze finally lifted to her face again. Her eyes were full of tears. Ben wanted to kiss her, to kiss away each one that now slid down her cheeks. But not yet. He opened his hand and plucked the ring out, holding it for her to see. The words Ben had dreamed of for years, words he thought he'd never get to say, suddenly tumbled out into the open, taking his whole heart with them.
"Rey, will you marry me?"
Oh yes, the dandelion seeds were in the air now. But he didn't need to be afraid, because she didn't hesitate even a second, yanking him up to her, crushing her soft, desperate lips into his, consuming him with a ferocity that stole the breath right out of his lungs.
"Yes," she gasped against him, and then kissed him again, and again.
Ben fumbled for her hands, sliding the ring on even as he returned her devouring affection, pulled into the rhythm of this kiss, his heart breaking free of his ribs and flying off somewhere else. He was pretty sure he'd never find it again.
When she finally had to pull away to catch her breath, she was laughing, and crying still. Ben wiped her tears with his thumbs, holding her face as if she were made of glass.
"What's so funny?" he rumbled, unable to stop the grin breaking over his face.
"We're so stupid," she said euphorically. "It's been right here all along. You keep saying it. We haven't been paying attention. But you've known her name this whole time."
"Her name? I have?" His brow lifted, his gaze dipping back to her lips. He leaned in to taste them once more, softer this time.
She tilted into him, a quiet, velvety sound sighing in the back of her throat. When he pulled back again, she said gently, "Olive."
A catch, a spark meeting dry tinder, a new, brilliant flame rising up inside him. He looked down at her bump. "Olive?"
His olive. The tiny little bean that made herself known at that first ultrasound.
"Yes," Rey whispered.
"Does it bother you that her name would sound like a sentence?" he asked, even though he was loathe to give her any reason to change her mind about it. He'd never loved any sound more. "I'll live solo?"
"I'll live," she repeated, glancing away in thought. A small smile teased at the corner of her mouth. "I can't explain it, but it feels appropriate somehow." Her hand found his face again, and her eyes were on him, and he'd never seen so much unguarded affection in them.
He leaned into her touch. "Then Olive it is."
There. Their daughter had a name. And Ben had his prize. His favorite person in the world, wearing a token of his love, promised to become his forever.
Rey's smile faded, and suddenly her eyes were full of tears again. Alarmed, pulled back. "What's wrong?"
"I never thought I'd get to be this happy," she admitted, burying her face in her hands.
That utterly broke him. He scrambled up onto the couch next to her and pulled her into him, encircling her in his arms. "You do. God, you do. You deserve more, better, but for whatever reason this is what you want, so you can have it. I will move heaven and earth to give you what you want."
She laughed through her tears, nuzzling into his shirt. "You idiot. There's no one better than you."
Highly debatable, but Ben felt too good to contradict her. So he just held her, and marveled. At the turn his life had taken. At her, this miraculous creature in his arms. At the way she had, against all odds, against everything he'd known about her nature, agreed to put all her trust in him, in this.
Rey lifted her head from his chest, looking at her hand splayed over him, seeming to realize for the first time that he'd slipped the ring onto her finger. She sat back, pulling out of his grasp, holding her hand out. He caught it in his and laid it out over his palm. The warmth of the subtle rose gold looked good against her skin. He glanced up at her.
"Is it okay? I know it's kind of different."
She didn't look away from it. Her expression was difficult to read. "It's beautiful, Ben."
"It belonged to my grandmother," he said softly. "My mom's mom. I didn't know how you'd feel wearing the ring of…someone deceased. And I didn't know if you'd care for it, because it's not a diamond. But it's the best thing I own."
Her gaze snapped up to his, eyes wide, lips twitching into a smile. "Ben, honestly. How many times have we gone to antique stores together? Stuff with history, stuff that has been owned and loved before — I live for that. You know this. So I can't even tell you how much I love that it's your grandmother's. If this ring means something to you, then that makes it better than any diamond. Besides, I love that it's different. It's gorgeous"
Ben could feel his face getting hot. "You're different and gorgeous too. So…I thought it suited you."
"God, Ben." She laughed breathlessly. "I can't believe Bazine ever said no to you."
"Bazine…?" Ben blinked, utterly confused. How the hell did Baz come into this conversation?
Rey looked decidedly guilty all of the sudden. "Um…I should probably tell you that this isn't the first time I've seen this ring."
"It's not?"
"While you were out of town I tried to borrow some socks and I found it." She blushed and buried her hands in her lap, looking down at them. "And you mentioned once, at Poe's party when we were playing that stupid game, that you had proposed so someone before, so…I just figured you tried to give it to Bazine, and she didn't want it."
Ben's mind spun and he tried to figure out what the hell to address first. Of course she'd found it while he was gone. And of course she'd come to the completely wrong conclusion about it. The absurdity of her assumption struck him, and suddenly he laughed.
She frowned. "What?"
He shook his head. "Rey, I never proposed to Baz. That was the whole reason we broke up. She wanted me to marry her, I didn't. I've never taken that box out of the drawer for anyone. This ring has only ever been meant for you."
She inhaled sharply, color rising in her cheeks once more. "But what about the proposals?"
He smirked. "Can you honestly not think of any times when I've ever proposed to you before?"
Her glance darted around, searching, puzzled.
Ben helped her with a prompt. "Remember that night after we all celebrated Poe getting his architect license? And you and I went wandering off, talking about the future?"
Her eyes widened and he could practically see the memory swimming there. The way the fall air swept through her hair, the crunch of leaves beneath their feet as they snuck away from their friends back at the bar, both of them just a tad tipsy.
"We found a guy living out of his van," she said softly.
He nodded. "It was all renovated inside to be this tiny little apartment. He said he drove anywhere he wanted, worked remotely, saw the country."
"And I decided I'd be a travel writer and just drive old road trip routes forever, writing about secret spots only locals love," she said, her smile starting to grow.
"I decided I'd have my own van, and go my own way. And one day, somewhere at a lonely rest stop in the middle of nowhere, our paths would cross. And that would be the sign. And I'd ask you to marry me."
"And I'd say yes," she breathed, her voice gone so soft now. "I didn't know you were really asking, Ben. I thought we were just caught up in the fantasy of that dream."
He traced around the shell of her ear, letting his fingers graze down her neck, his eyes tracking their descent over her smooth skin, pebbling under his touch. "There have been a lot of moments like that over the years, Rey. I always made sure to make it seem like I was joking. I never was."
She launched herself at him, tackling him backwards so that he found himself awkwardly reclined on the arm of the couch. She straddled him, leaning over her bump so she could again make his head spin with the way her mouth found his, all fire and fury and so, so much hunger.
"Curse you," she growled into him. "Being here the whole time, and I was too blind to see it, and you were so patient, so careful, so sweet. I never stood a chance with you. You're perfect."
"I'm really not." He pushed her backwards, chasing her with his lips until she was the one beneath him. Much better. "And why didn't you tell me you'd seen the ring already?"
"I — figured," she said a little breathlessly, her smile dazzling. "I figured it wasn't for me."
"Ridiculous," he scoffed. "Of course it was."
She laughed again, her hands sliding up and into his hair. "God, Ben, what are we doing? Is any of this real?"
"It's real, baby," he said, leaning down to kiss her again, a soft touch of his tongue against hers, a grin breaking helplessly over his features. "You, and me, and her. We're going to a family. The completely boring, wholesome, traditional, married kind."
"With a dozen babies," she reminded him.
They were a pair of fools, he decided, both of them grinning like lovesick idiots. But he couldn't stop, and clearly, neither could she. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to giggle. Absurd. So he brushed his lips down the column of her throat instead, light and teasing.
"You're parents are going to need an apology," she told him.
He jerked his head up, giving her a look. "You're thinking about them right now?"
"I was wondering how soon I can marry you, and then I was thinking about their ideas, and then I remembered how rude you were to them," she said with a soft laugh.
"They were tying to ruin this," he murmured, "This moment belongs to us, not them."
She pecked his cheek. "It does. But I still think you should apologize. Tomorrow, at dinner."
"Fine. I will. But if we could go back — you said soon."
"Soon," she echoed, nodding. "Very, very soon."
"If we wait," He slid a hand over her bump, "we can do something big."
"Do you want big? I don't really care about a big wedding."
"Hell no," he took her hands and pulled her up with him as he sat back, since it seemed this little moment required more discussion than action now. "I'd whisk you off to Vegas if I didn't think that too trashy for what you deserve. I don't really need anyone there but you."
That heart-stopping smile returned, wide and toothy and glorious. Her eyes sparkled. "Then I don't want to wait."
He puffed in hopeful disbelief. "You don't?"
"Your mother probably won't forgive us, but…something small and quick, that suits me. Maybe we don't even tell anyone. Only your parents, that's it. And then later, after the baby, we let her plan the extravagant affair I'm sure she's always dreamed of for you."
That plan was the most them plan he'd ever heard. They'd always done things their own way, just a little different from anyone else. The expectations of others didn't guide them. Not when they were friends, sleeping together and spending all their time together but refusing to acknowledge deeper feelings. Not when they accidentally made a baby and decided to co-parent despite all reason. Not when they finally got together. And definitely not when it came to this proposal. So why should their marriage be any different?
"So until that day, none of our friends, or my uncle, or anyone but my parents would know. And you would be my secret wife," he said, reveling in the deliciousness of that most delightful idea. "Yes, Rey, I like the sound of that very much."
She grinned. "I thought you might."
He stood, holding onto her hands and pulling her up with him. "I'm on board. We'll tell them tomorrow before Luke and Mara get there. But right now, I don't want to talk about my parents anymore. I kind of want to take you upstairs and see if it feels any different, bedding my fiancée instead of my friend-turned-baby-mama."
She leaned up on her toes, sneaking in a kiss that was probably meant to be quick, but once he'd caught her, Ben didn't let her go. Rey wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed happily. He took that as assent, leading her towards the stairs. He was going to take his time with her. To engage her in one of those slow, languid journeys towards some blissful end, because they had nowhere else to be tonight, and Ben was far too full of wonder to let this moment go uncelebrated. He'd show her exactly how happy he was at the turn life had taken in the breath of an hour.
A/N: Good? Happy?
And yeah, I know what I said before, but I kept coming back to it again and again. It was the only name she was ever going to have in this story. And she's fictional, so it's okay. And I realized "I'll live" suited the child of our beloved Ben Solo so painfully well. There could be no other choice.