Captured(86)

I swallow hard against the lump in my throat. This wasn’t the conversation I thought we’d be having. “I don’t know, Derek. I’ve never lived anywhere but Oklahoma and here.”

“Well, here’s the thing: Part of the reason Hunter and Rania could spare the time to come down here again was that Hunter had an interview with the Bexar County Public Works department, managing the road crews in the San Antonio area. And I made a couple of calls myself this week. Talked to some people at the medical center over there. I could work at the hospital as an orderly until I have my physical therapy degree.”

“What—ahem.” I have to blink hard, think. “What would I do?”

“Anything you wanted?” He rubs his cheek with a knuckle. “This is a chance to…I don’t know. Start over? Find something you enjoy? You’ve been busting your ass, dawn to dusk, for a f*ckin’ decade, babe. Just to keep shit going. You never asked for it, and I kind of gather you never really wanted it. But you did it. And you never complained. Now we got a chance to find something just for you. For us. With my CRSC and the job at the hospital, we should be able to make it fine. You would have time to figure it out. Stay home with Tommy, if you want. Tommy and the baby, I guess it’ll be. I don’t know. My point is….” He trails off, seeing that I’m having trouble.

Meaning, I’m not looking at him, blinking hard and fast, breathing slowly. “Yeah. That—that sounds like a good idea.”

“Shit. I f*cked this up.” He turns away from me, wipes his face with both hands. “This was supposed to be this romantic picnic in the woods, in our spot—”

“It is, Derek! It’s perfect. I’m sorry I’m so emotional right now, I’m just—”

“I wasn’t supposed to make you cry.” He runs his hand through his hair. “At least, not like that.”

That gets my attention. “What? What do you mean?”

He seems at a loss, as if he’s bursting with a million things he wants to say but doesn’t know where to start. Finally, he growls and leans into me, kisses me. It’s a breathless kiss, a thought-stealing kiss. A distraction, a fake-out. He’s got me down on my back, and we’re getting lost in each other. I’m clutching his back, scratching my fingers down his spine.

Just when I think he’ll take us where I suddenly want us to go, he pulls away. He’s levered up over me, staring down at me. Touching my cheek with his palm.

“I love you so much, Reagan. Sometimes I still don’t even know how it happened, but I’m thankful every day that it did. And I still have moments where I think you must be crazy for loving a guy like me. Moments where I doubt whether I’m good enough for you. I want you to be happy. That’s all I was thinking about, when I was talking about plans just now. Where we could go, what we could do. I just want you to feel like you have a future you’re happy about. I want that for us, even if I’m still sometimes wigged out by the fact that there is an ‘us.’”

“I’ll go anywhere, Derek. I’m trusting you. I’m following you.” I stare up at him, let him see my sincerity. I do trust him, and I will follow him wherever he goes. It’s scary, but he’s worth it.

“And that’s—the fact that you trust me like that? Reagan, it scares me. I don’t want to let you down. I won’t.” He swallows hard. “This has all happened so fast. A matter of months, you know? My life changed when I was taken prisoner by the Taliban. Changed for the worse. But then those Raiders rescued me, and I ended up in Texas, and I met you. You captured me, and my life changed again. For the better this time. And now I can’t—I don’t even know how to live my life without you in it. That’s crazy, to me. That, in literally just a handful of months, you’ve become…shit, how do I put it? You’ve become part of me.”

Oh, shit. Here we go. My heart is hammering in my chest again, and I have to hold on to his shoulders to keep my hands from shaking. I can only look up at him and drink in his words and hope, hope, hope.

“I love—” The words stick in my throat, and I try anyway, try to whisper them. “I love—”

“Ssshhh. Just listen.” He touches my lips with a finger. Reaches into the picnic basket and pulls out a little black box. “I hope I’m doing this right. I’m so nervous. Never thought I’d do this, but here we go.”

He starts to sit up, like he’s gonna do the one-knee thing, but I hold onto him. “No. Here. Like this.” I keep him in place, leaning over me. He’s perfect here. We’re perfect here.

“Reagan…will you marry me?” He’s got the ring, a little thing, but beautiful. Simple, white gold, a princess-cut diamond, a single tiny diamond on either side of the larger center one. I’m crying, nodding. Holding up my finger. “Come on, baby. Let me hear the word.”

“Yes.” I choke it out, squeak the word he wants to hear. “Yes, yes. Yes. Please, yes.”

“Dear god, thank you,” he breathes.

He takes my left hand in his and slides the ring down onto my fourth finger.

“Did you really think I’d say no?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Like I said, it doesn’t always make sense to me that you could love me, and I—I want to make you mine. So you can’t change your mind.”