“Yes,” I say, answering the question he isn’t directly asking. Releasing my wrists, he brings my ringed finger to his mouth and kisses it.
And then he pulls out and spends fifteen minutes cleaning me up and running me a bath. He carries me in, and even though I’m no damsel in distress, I also lose all ability to be a feminist when I’m pressed to his sinewy existence.
When the bubbles are up to my neck, he brings in my reheated coffee and sticks a bite of bagel in my mouth. As I chew, he talks, sitting completely naked on the closed toilet next to me. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m here. I ain’t pushin’ nothing, but as a man who loves you, I gotta say, you not bein’ a mom is a real fuckin’ crime.”
I lift my hand from the bubbles and watch the ring twinkle in the bright bathroom lights. I look over at my man, a man in therapy at my advice, a man who lets me treat his parents like they’re my own, and a man who didn’t walk away from me when any other man probably would have.
I don’t know if I want to be a mom. But I do know that with Atticus, anything seems possible.
He kisses my head and leaves me to bathe.
I sink down into the bubbles and lovingly gaze at the ring. I twist the band on my finger, loving how it feels.
Atticus and his family, Oakcreek and Gonzo Auto—maybe they aren’t what I thought I wanted when I came here, but they’re what I needed.
I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
epilogue
atticus
Want your gift?
Three years later.
Beau drives his fist into me. “Nervous?”
I roll my eyes. “Dude, look at me.” With two fingers, I motion to my neck and shirtless torso.
He shrugs. “Yeah, that was a dumb question.”
“And this is all she wants?”
I use my most feminine voice. “It’s all I want for my fortieth birthday.”
Beau’s brows pinch together in obvious confusion. “I don’t get why she went for this. I mean, that’s easy for you to say yes to, right?”
I nod. “Right. I don’t know why she picked this either but… she did and–”
“You’d get Mister Rogers holding a sniper rifle tattooed on you if she asked,” Beau finishes with a laugh. But I tip my lips down and nod my head.
“Yeah, I would.”
And then, it's my turn.
* * *
Forty minutes later,I’m coming home, my arms full of white daisies—Goldie’s favorite. It’s her fortieth birthday eve, and I’m giving her a gift tonight so we can spend the day tomorrow doing whatever she wants.
“Hey baby,” I call as I push open the front door to our house.
She moved in here right after we got engaged. We thanked Delilah profusely and even found her a new renter—Delane. It’s her first time living on her own, and the spot above Delilah’s is small and safe—perfect for her.
We took a page out of Beck and Beau’s handbook and got married at the courthouse. The entire Burns gang was there, and my Mom and Dad.
And that’s all.
It was fuckin’ perfect. And that was a week after I slid that ring on her finger.