I swallow the knot in my throat.
Well, crap.
It may very well be for all of those reasons that I actually say yes.
“I’m losing my fucking mind, Max.” I take another sip of whiskey, staring at my friend. He sits at the bar next to me, day drinking with me like a champ. “I need her to say yes. I can’t lose her.”
Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “You should have thought that proposal through then, Josh. Fuck. Why didn’t you talk to me first?”
I grind my teeth. “I didn’t need to talk to you, and I stand by what I did. I’m not going to give her a hearts-and-flowers proposal when this isn’t a hearts-and-flowers relationship.”
Max turns to hit me with a sympathetic look. “And you’re sure you don’t think you could be in love with her? Because that’s all she’s looking for, man.”
My chest swells with a pain that I want to push my finger into until it pops. “I don’t love her, Max. And I don’t want to love her. If I love her, I don’t see clearly. I can’t let my guard down the way I did with Julian, not with her or anybody else—ever again.”
“But Lynsey and this baby aren’t your patients, Josh.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I slam my fist on the bar. “Scary shit happens every day in life, and I need to know that I won’t be blinded by some stupid emotion like I was in Baltimore.”
“That was different, Josh. There was a lot of heavy, complicated shit tied up with Julian’s death.”
“You don’t think loving Lynsey and our baby would be heavy and complicated?” I exclaim, my eyes stinging at the mere thought of giving my heart to them. “Loving them would take away the best parts of me. It would ruin me, Max.”
Max shakes his head. “You think you can actually not admit to loving your own child after you hold it for the first time?”
“It’s not about love, Max,” I reply, taking another sip of my whiskey. “It’s about keeping them safe. I’m going to be there for them in all the ways a father and a husband should be. But I have to compartmentalize them into a safe space for their own protection.”
Max’s face falls, but I’m distracted when my phone pings with a text notification.
Lynsey: Cervix is still measuring at a one. Dr. Lizzy says all is good, and there’s no need to worry.
Me: What? Why didn’t you tell me your appointment was today? You told me it was tomorrow.
Lynsey: I went in early because I have a work thing tomorrow.
Me: Why didn’t you tell me?
Lynsey: Cuz you didn’t need to be there. It was a quick appointment.
Me: Lynsey. I want to be at all the appointments. Every single one.
Lynsey: There are things I want too, Josh. And I’m not getting them.
“Dammit.” I slam my phone down. “She’s pushing me away. She’s going to leave. I can feel it.”
“Then what are you going to do about it?” Max asks, nudging me with his elbow.
“I don’t fucking know but I can’t lose her, Max. Give me some advice. Something useful for a change.”
Max sighs heavily. “Well…she wanted a real proposal. Something that wasn’t impulsive and casual. Something that she could be proud to tell her friends and family about. I don’t think it’s impossible to give her that while still protecting your heart.”
I frown over at him. “So maybe flowers but no hearts?”
Max nods. “Yeah, but not fucking flowers. That’s so cliché. Just think of all the shit you know about her and tie some of it into a new proposal. Make it personal. And get a fucking ring this time, you cheap asshole.”
I nod and ponder his suggestion. It’s the best advice he’s given me so far, that’s for damn sure. Maybe it could work.
I switch shifts with one of my fellow attendings so I’m home while Lynsey’s at work. I turn on her favorite country slow songs that I always hear her listening to in the bath and light candles throughout the house…even though they’re cliché as shit. What’s not cliché is the charcuterie board-inspired portion of this proposal.
My heart lurches when the garage door opening warns me that she’s coming. I quickly turn the music up and get into position in the living room.
A moment later, Lynsey strolls in, holding her belly. Her brows furrow as she looks around at the candles.
I meet her in the dining area with a round charcuterie board in hand. “Hey, Jones.”
She glances at the board. “Josh, what are you doing?”
I smile. I smile a full, real smile this time because fucking hell, I might not love this woman, but she does make me happy. Happy and crazy and angry and passionate and I don’t want to lose her.
I drop down to one knee and lift the board filled with French silk pie slices from the hospital cafeteria with a princess cut engagement ring nestled right in the middle.
“Is that a sprig of aloe vera on a pie board?” Lynsey asks, her eyes wide in disbelief.
I shake my head. “Only your crazy mind would notice the garnish before the diamond ring sitting right in the middle.”
She blinks back her surprise, and croaks, “What are you doing, Josh?”
“I’m proposing to you in a way that makes you realize that I do care about you, Jones. That I know who you are and that you deserve a real proposal.” I lift the board up as proof. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I want to be there for you, supporting and encouraging you because there is seriously nothing I wouldn’t do for you, baby.”
Lynsey inhales sharply, her emotions spilling over as her eyes well with tears. “Josh…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll marry me,” I reply quickly. “Say that you’ll let me take care of you and the baby forever. Please.”
I hold my breath as a heavy silence descends. She could still say no. And hell, I’ll deserve it because she could do better than me. She could find someone who can love her and give her the life she’s always wanted. But I can’t go down without a fight. And I can only hope that she feels I’m worth sticking around for.
My heart thumps when tears fall down her face. I’m pretty sure they’re happy tears.
I hope they’re happy tears.
After a long pause, she smiles softly, and says, “Yes Josh, I’ll marry you.”
My eyes close as an immediate sense of comfort washes over me. I quickly recover and stand to put the ring on her finger. She opens her mouth to say something as a fleeting look of sadness crosses her face. Shaking that doubt away, I press my lips to hers and exhale because for the first time in a month, I can finally take a full breath again.
Lynsey is mine now. She’s with me, and I can protect her and our peanut from whatever this cruel world might bring.
I’ve got her.
I’m engaged to be married, and I’m having a baby.
My goodness, what a difference a year can make. This time last year, I was a full-time student, living rent-free in my grandma’s condo, stressing out about my pie butt and sad dating life, and having tiki bar parties with my friends in my backyard.