Page 157 of Give & Take

She nods, and I feel a hot tear splash on my hand as I straighten the necklace out in front.

Lana kisses me, then moves to her own chair again. Then she kisses me again. “Thank you, Raph. I love it.”

“And I love you.”

She sets the box on the table, but I put the lid on and hand it back to her. “You should keep this,” I say.

“Why? There’s no way I’m taking this off.”

“Just hang onto it. Put it somewhere safe.”

Lana tilts her head. Then she shakes the box. There’s a little rattle, slightly muffled. Her eyes go wide.

“Don’t open it yet,” I say. “Hold onto it for however long you like. Just know I’m ready the moment you are.”

“For what?” she asks through glassy eyes.

“You know what, Sunshine.”

“Tell me anyway.”

I lean forward, hand on her jaw. “I’m ready whenever you are, to be together for the rest of our lives.”

Epilogue

Raphael

EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER

Lana paces back and forth behind the red velvet curtain, reading from hot pink index cards. On the other side, murmurs of excited conversation and laughter from the growing crowd mingle with soft music.

“Lana,” I say from the velvet chaise where I’m trying to repose behind her. I’m not very good at it—my legs fully hang off the end and this suit’s hardly comfy loungewear. But I’m sufficiently distracted by how amazing Lana looks in her silky pantsuit.

Specifically the way the fabric curves over her rear end.

I guess some things don’t change.

I do my best pose as Lana finally registers I called her name. One hand on hip. The other in tousled hair, elbow on the curly top of the chaise.

“What are you doing?” she asks, laughing.

I open my arms. “Being supportive. Literally supportive. Come here and I’ll support you on this couch.”

“Raph, I’m going up to the podium in fifteen minutes!”

“I’m not asking for a snuggle. Or anything else—there’s a huge crowd on the other side of that curtain!” I lift an eyebrow. “Unless that would turn you on?”

Lana’s eyes go narrow. But she comes over to me, crawling onto the couch and into my arms.

There’s this very specific feeling when I’m holding Lana like this—it’s a buzzy feeling, like a warm electric current’s taken over my body. Like the neon sign hovering on the wall behind me has somehow started very gently electrocuting me.

Lana sighs happily, her tense muscles relaxing against me. This is one of my favorite things to do with Lana. When either of us feel stressed or confused or upset, we lie down together. A long, full-body hug where every part of us melts into each other. It’s not sexual, this touch. It’s comfort. It’s home.

It’s life.

“You don’t have to do this part, you know,” I say into her hair.

“I know.”

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