Three Weeks Later
I WATCHED LATHAM FROM BEHIND. He was standing between a set of parallel bars, his effervescent physical therapist urging him to take another step. He did, followed by another, and another, until he reached the end of the bars and had to turn around. I walked up behind him and kissed his cheek.
“Hi, honey.”
“Are you here to save me, Jack? It’s like a prison camp. Terrible food, unbearable torture.”
“Can I borrow him for a minute, Julie?” I asked the therapist.
“Just for a minute. Then we have to do our sets.”
Latham rolled his eyes in mock horror. “God, I hate sets. Carry me out of here, Jack. I don’t need to walk anymore. Walking is overrated.”
“Latham, I need to be serious for a moment. Can you do that?”
“Sure.”
I breathed deep, let it out slow.
“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about engagements and marriage until you’re a hundred percent again. But that’s not working for me.”
Latham stared at me so deeply I felt he could read my thoughts.
“What are you saying, Jack?”
I clapped my hands once, and the mariachi trio entered, filling the hospital gym with music. Latham grinned at me when I got down on one knee. I was much more nervous than I thought I’d be.
“Latham Conger, I care about you more than any man I’ve ever met, and I don’t want to wait to be engaged because every minute we’re not together is a minute I’m dying inside.”
“Really? Dying inside?”
I took his hand and tugged the ring out of my pocket. A gold band with a single diamond set inside. I was scared, but if I could handle bees crawling all over me, I could handle anything.
“Will you-”
“Wrong hand, Jack.”
I grabbed his other hand.
“Will you-”
“Wow, that’s a nice ring.”
“Latham Conger,” I said, loudly so he wouldn’t interrupt me again, “will you marry me?”
He smiled at me, and my heart melted.
“Yes. I will.”