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He turned to gaze at me too, his hand coming up to stroke my cheek. “Twelve years old and I was done. Finished. I’d found what I wanted forever. It would seem silly if someone else told me that. But it happened to me.”
I grabbed his hand to still it, and rubbed my cheek against his rough palm.
I’d always associated that group home with the start of everything bad that had happened to me. But I’d recently realized through therapy how much good there’d been too. I’d lost Ari there. But I’d also found him too. And that was how I was going to start thinking about that.
“I haven’t gone stargazing since I left the group home,” I murmured, frowning. “I think it hurt too much, because I associated it…with you.”
“I was a cheesy fucker back then, wasn’t I?” he grinned, and I snorted, bringing his hand from my face to my chest so I could snuggle against it.
“You’restilla cheesy fucker. But I love it,” I said, leaning forward to give him a kiss.
"Ari, do you think I'm going to be sad forever?"
Words from the past hit me hard.
“Blake, are you alright?” Ari asked, and I realized I’d been hovering above his lips…not saying anything.
“I’m not sad anymore,” I whispered.
“What?”
“I’m not sad anymore. We were stargazing as little kids and I asked you if you thought it would last forever. And all this time…it has. But it’s gone now.” Tears slipped down my cheeks. “You did it.”
He studied me, so much love in his gaze that it was hard to breathe.
“I don’t think I can take all the credit, sunshine,” he said gently.
And it was crazy that that was true.
Since that day where I’d started to take control of my life…I hadn’t cut and I hadn’t purged…I hadn’t even weighed myself. I’d told myself “I was perfect” every single day in the mirror…whether Ari was inside me or not.
I’d gone to therapy every week faithfully, even when it sucked, or it hurt.
I had shown up for myselfeveryday.
And of course, Ari had showed up for me too.
He was beaming as we stared at each other. There was no one more proud of me than him.
But it was even better thatIwas finally proud of myself too.
He pushed up from the cushions, his face paling a bit as he stared down at me. “Just to let you know, we’re already married. And we’re staying that way.”
I gazed up at him, confused, before I sat up too, kneeling with him. “What? What’s wrong?”
He pulled a violet colored, brocade box out of his pocket and opened it, revealing a diamond encrusted wedding band, one that would fit perfectly with the huge rock that hadn’t left my finger since we’d reunited.
“Oh, Ari–”
“Blake, as you’re well aware, you’re already my wife. But I’ve had a speech planned since the moment I saw you on that billboard, how I was going to ask you to marry me. And I didn't get the chance to say it...”
He grinned, because he knew as well as I did, that was the understatement of the century for what had happened that night.
Ari went on unrepentantly, and I shook my head in amusement.
“So we’re doing a redo tonight…if that’s alright.”
I nodded, already emotional, because I loved him so freaking much.
