Page 77 of Say You'll Stay

“Stop, I’m serious.”

“So just me? Are you one of those guys that doesn’t wear a ring? Need to be free?”

“Pick one. I’ll wear it. Just none of those ugly shiny ones.”

She pursues the options, passing over the flashy platinum and gold he hates so much and landing on something made of wood. Earthy and raw, just like him. That’s the band that would show the world he belongs to her…if this were real. Which it’s not.

He nods his approval of her choice before taking his turn to pick hers and that’s when he balks, reaching for several rings before pulling back at the last second. He’s putting far more effort into this than she expected, passing over the giant fake diamonds and gaudy stones before finally settling on a smaller, more delicate version of his own.

“If you want a diamond, we can get one of those instead. Just figured it might snag on things.”

“This is perfect,” she says softly, switching gears quickly to purse her lips with a tease. “Should we say something?”

“You mean liketo have and to hold,blah blah blah?”

“Sure, something like that.”

She slips her palm into his offered hand while he holds the ring in the air, his tone just as light as hers. “I, Cole, promise in this here truck stop to always have your back, share my snacks with you, and go on diaper runs.”

She rolls her eyes. “That snack one is important.”

“Am I saying this or what?”

“Yes. Please continue.”

“Alright, as I was saying, snacks, diapers, whole nine yards. I’ll even beat up Lucy’s suitors when she’s a teenager.” He pauses, something shifting that turns him serious and shy all of a sudden, as if what comes next might make her scoff or reject him. He should know by now that her acceptance is endless.

“Promise to be good to you. Always,” he continues. “Treat you how you deserve until you believe you deserve it, then after that, too. I won’t ever leave you. We’ll do all those things you talked about. Maybe not the roller coasters but the s’mores and campfire. The dog. All of it. The three of us together.”

This started out as a prop for their cover. More of a joke than anything serious. She hadn’t considered any possibility beyond that. He wouldn’t want this yet, maybe not ever, and she’d been so certain she never would again. Yet here she is with heat prickling behind her eyes as it all becomes so very real.

“I love you,” she says simply, hoping he can see the truth of it.

She has her own vows pulled up on short notice that she wants him to know, but he’s rushing forward a moment later, responding to her admission with the warmth of his kiss.

“I was about to keep going,” she half laughs, grinning against his mouth.

“Already said enough. Love you, too. More than I thought I could love anyone.”

She hadn’t dared to hope he’d say it back. When he does, she’s certain her expression matches his own, full of relief and wonder at being given something they’d assume themselves unworthy of.

“I think we did this backward,” she smiles, realizing they hadn’t exchanged rings before diving right into the kiss.

“We do a lotta things backwards, but somehow they work out just fine. Come on, family photo.” He grabs the camera from the bag with his right hand and holds it out for a selfie, leaning in close as they hold up their ring fingers toward the lens. “Say ‘I Do’ on three.”

They both belt out those two words as he clicks the shutter.

She couldn’t get rid of her last ring fast enough. She tossed it in the trash of that subway bathroom, leaving it behind along with the man this new world gave her a chance to escape. It was a chain tying her to a life she wanted to forget, and shepromised herself she’d never wear another. Wouldn’t be that vulnerable for anyone, or risk another marriage that felt like a prison.

She doesn’t feel like a captive with this wooden band on her finger. She only feels lucky. It’s confirmation of a new family formed in the ruins of a broken world.

Chapter 21

They find a motorcycle in the back of the truck stop. Despite not being the safest choice, traveling this way is their quickest route to the farm. Easier to weave in and out of crashes and downed trees, flying right past anything in their path.

At least, it would be if Cole wasn’t driving like a ninety-year-old granny high on pot. Olivia uses one arm to hold the baby in her sling while keeping the other free for balance. He anxiously anticipates every bump and turn, hardly breaking twenty miles an hour.

As they moved farther away from the community, he picked up speed out of necessity, but now, with no one following them, he’s overly cautious with precious cargo. At this rate, it’ll take them forever to reach their destination. She assures him they’re fine more than once, saying he can speed up and joking about them all aging ten years before they get there but he maintains a steady pace for the next few miles until they come to a rolling stop for a break outside of an old, broken down motel.

---