We linger there until the chill becomes too much to bear, then say goodbye to my parents and make our way back to the car.
I turn off the ignition and face Sol, running my hands through his hair, then curl my fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck. He blinks, focus returning in his eyes.
“Hey there,” I say.
His mouth tugs up in that almost-there smile, but his eyes, those stunning blue eyes are dark and sad. His hand reaches for my other hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “Hey.”
We remain like this for several moments, then I ask, “Want to get out of here?”
He nods, kisses my palm again, then steps out of the car. Five minutes later, we’re standing in the kitchen. I shuffle closer and wrap my arms around him, letting him know I’m here. It’s okay not to be okay at this moment.
I pull back, take his hand, and lead him up the stairs. He winces, and his limping is more pronounced as we get to the last step.
“The freezing weather makes it worse,” he says, gesturing to his leg.
Shit. I should have thought about that before I made our evening plans. “I’m sorry.”
“Where are you taking me anyway?”
“Just a surprise.” I pause outside his room and drop his hand, then stand on my tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’ll be right back.”
I return a few moments later with the little plastic bag I brought with me from Portland.
His eyes light up a little, my favorite half-smile carving his mouth. “What’s that?”
“You’ll see.” Shooting him a smile, I lead the way into the bathroom with him in tow.
I’d hoped we’d have a romantic evening while we are here: stay in, enjoy a warm bath together, then I’d cook dinner for us. Then later just make out, finding the way back to us.
Right now, all I want to do is hold him until the pain subsides. Also, I’m hoping the bath will help ease some of the discomfort Sol is experiencing.
Unzipping the bag, I pull out candles and place them strategically around the bathroom. Then I turn on the tap, letting the water fill the tub while I pour a generous amount of the bubble bath from my bag. Immediately, the scent of vanilla and coconut drifts in the air.
Eager to see his reaction, I face him, but he’s no longer smiling. He’s staring over my shoulder with this faraway look.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, darting a glance over my shoulder to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong. Then I face him again.
“Her favorite body wash.” He brushes past me and heads to the bottles lined along the wall at the tub. Reaching out, he picks up one of them and opens the cap, then inhales the scent. “Roses. That’s what she smelled like.”
I follow him, hug him from behind, and kiss his back, then shift to stand next to him. “Can I smell it?”
“It’s empty,” he says, handing me the bottle, then reaching for another one. “My dad loved buying like a whole pack of these just to make sure she never ran out of this particular brand.” His voice breaks on the last two words.
I take a sniff and close my eyes, trying to hold on to the faint scent. The image of Sol’s parents flashes in my head; these two people who brought this special boy into this world.
“Keeping her stuff after all these years,” he mutters. “It’s silly.”
My eyes pop open. I stare up at him, but his eyes are on the bottles. “I think it’s really sweet.”
He twists around to face me, his face going soft and a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Mom loved taking baths. She’d find any excuse to have them. My dad had a nickname for her. My Mermaid. That’s what he’d call her before stripping down to his underwear and jumping in the tub with her. They’d ask me to join them. Dad and me in our underwear and Mom in her bra and underwear.” He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s a small tub, but somehow we managed to fit. We’d sit in there until the water got cold. Then my father and I would get out and leave my mother to finish her bath.”
“How old were you?” I ask.
“Around five.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ve never seen two people love each other as much as my parents did.”
I wrap my arm around his middle and tug him close. He lets me, propping his cheek atop my head, then points at the small shelf above the medicine cabinet by the sink where a shaving razor and a bottle of aftershave stand. “That belonged to my dad. It’s hard getting rid of all their stuff.”
“I know, baby.”
His gaze meets mine in the cabinet mirror. “You don’t think it’s strange to hold on to all these things?”
I lift my head from his chest and shake my head. “Only you can decide when you are ready to let go. It’s not a weakness, Sol. It makes you human. It makes me love you even more.”
It makes me want to give you everything and more. That’s what I want to say, but this is probably not the right time. Plus, this is not about me, rather being here for him.
“Really? You don’t think it’s messed up?”
“Your mess is mine. That’s how we function, right?”
He smiles, and this time it reaches his eyes. “Yeah.” He looks so handsome as he stares at me with his heart in his eyes. I love that he doesn’t try to hide what he feels. That he doesn’t hide his pain from me.
I glance at the bottles lining the tub, the aftershave and razor at the sink. The way he looked when he talked about his parents. This boy with such a big heart gave up his dream for me. Loved me when I was at my worst. This boy whom I love, the kind of love that brings me to my knees—
“Marry me,” I blurt out. It takes me a split of a second to realize what I just said. Now my pulse is pounding in my ears, and my nerves flutter in my stomach.
Sol’s eyes pop impossibly wide, and his lips part. The longer he continues to stare at me, the more I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Why did I have to go and make things awkward?
Shit. I’m going to throw up.
Sol finally blinks and asks, “What?”
His body is so still I’m not sure he’s breathing.
And now I’m shaking and I feel so hot, like I’m running a high fever because I can’t read what he’s thinking. All I know is that I love him. I want to spend forever with him.
“Grace?” Sol whispers my name. Grace, not Gracie. My heart bangs around inside my chest. “What did you say?”
I’m going to pass out. For real.
He puts his hands on my shoulders, and immediately, a wave of calmness washes over me. I take a deep breath, but my heart beats so fast I’m afraid it might rip through my chest.
I swallow around the ball of nervousness in my throat. “I want to share all of that with you. Bubble baths in our underwear. Waffle Sundays and Lazy Sundays and a family, children—”
“Whoa, Gracie. Slow down, okay?”
I draw in another deep breath, but I’m on a roll. “When you look at me, Sol, I don’t know what you see, but I know what I feel. I feel you in my veins. It’s like I’m the only thing you see and nothing else matters—”
“Gracie—”
“I know I kind of sprung this on you, and it’s okay to say n—”