Am I wrong for saying that I'll choose another way?

“What can I do to make you understand I will not run? What can I say?”

He gazes at me, revealing his  fear and anguish again. He swallows. “There is one thing you can do.”“What?” I snap.“Marry me,” he whispers.What? Did he really just—For the second time in less than half an hour my world stops.Holy fuck. I stare at the deeply fucked-up man I love. I can’t believe what he’s just said.

Marriage? He’s proposing marriage? Is he kidding? I can’t help it—a small, nervous, disbelieving giggle erupts from deep inside. I bite my lip to stop it from turning into full-scale hysterical laughter and fail miserably. I lie back flat on the floor and surrender myself to the laughter, laughing as I’ve never laughed before, huge healing cathartic howls of laughter.And for a moment I am on my own, looking down at this absurd situation, a giggling,overwhelmed girl beside a beautiful fucked-up boy. I drape my arm across my eyes, as my laughter turns to scalding tears. No, no . . . this is too much.He’s leaning over me. His mouth is twisted with wry amusement, but his eyes are a burning gray, maybe wounded. Oh no.He gently wipes away a stray tear with the back of his knuckles. “You find my proposal amusing?I caress his cheek tenderly, enjoying the feel of the stubble beneath my fingers. Lord, I love this man.Your sense of timing is without doubt . . .” I gaze up at him as words fail me.He smirks at me, but the crinkling around his eyes shows me that he’s hurt. It’s sobering.“You’re cutting me to the quick here. Will you marry me?”

I sit up and lean over him, placing my hands on his knees. I stare into his lovely face. e opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand. He obediently shuts his mouth.“You’ve just revealed some, quite frankly, shocking information about yourself, and now you’ve asked me to marry you.”He moves his head from side to side as if considering the facts. He’s amused. Thank heavens.“Yes, I think that’s a fair and accurate summary of the situation,” he says dryly.

I shake my head at him. “Whatever happened to delayed gratification?”“I got over it, and I’m now a firm advocate of instant gratification. Carpe diem,he whispers.“Look , I’ve known you for about three minutes, and there’s so much more I need to know. I’ve had too much to drink, I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I want to go to bed. I need to consider your proposal just as I considered that contract you gave me. And”—I press my lips together to show my displeasure but also to lighten the mood between us—“that wasn’t the most romantic proposal.”

He tilts his head to one side and his lips quirk up in a smile. “Fair point well made, as ever, ” he breathes, his voice laced with relief. “So that’s not a no?”I sigh.it’s not a no, but it’s not a yes either. You’re only doing this because you’re scared, and you don’t trust me.”“No, I’m doing this because I’ve finally met someone I want to  spend the rest of my life with.”

Oh. My heart skips a beat and inside I melt. How is it that in the middle of the most fucked-up situations he can say the most romantic things? My mouth pops open in shock.“I never thought that would happen to me,” he continues, his expression radiating pure undiluted sincerity.I gape at him, searching for the right words.“Can I think about it . . . please?What you’ve just told me? You asked for patience and faith. Well, back at you, Grey. I need those now.”

His eyes search mine and after a beat, he leans forward and tucks myhair behind my ear.“I can live with that.” He kisses me quickly on the lips. “Not very romantic, eh?” He raises his eyebrows, and I give him an admonishing shake of my head. “Hearts and flowers?” he asks softly.I nod and he gives me a slight smile.