Page 36 of Sex, Lies, and Margarita Mixes

She keeps stealing off my plate—even though it’s the same as what’s on her plate—like she’s done for the last three and a half years.

I don’t mind.

I never did.

Softly, she says, “I love you.” It’s not loud. It’s not dramatic. It’s just… honest.

I have to force myself to breathe.

I smile. “I know.”

She chuckles. “It’s not just the sex, Chase. Though the sex has always been unbelievable.”

I smirk. “That’s a relief. Because if it was just the sex… I’d be too smug to handle.”

She rolls her eyes and mutters, “Shut the hell up. And don’t make a big deal out of it,” but she smiles.

I want to drop to one knee and propose again right there.

I don’t.

Instead, I reach for her hand.

She lets me take it and opens her fingers to weave with mine. They thread like they belong together.

“I don’t know what happens next,” she whispers.

I nod. “That’s okay.”

She looks up. “You’re not scared I’ll flip out again?”

I press my forehead to hers, smile slightly, and nod. “I’m terrified, Rox.”

She exhales. “So… what now?”

I kiss her. Soft. Certain. And say, “Now we try again, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

ROXY

* * *

I find it in the drawer. Tucked in a small box under a folded T-shirt.

It’s the twist tie he wore at our wedding, along with my Ring Pop wedding ring. Just the plastic part. He kept it. He has it here with him.

The ring I replaced it with the morning after our wedding is on his finger. He’s never taken it off. Even after all the times I tried to kick him out, push him away, and end this crazy love between us.

I hold the trash rings between my fingers like they might bite me.

They don’t.

They aren’t trash though. They’re what we wore when we said our vows.

He kept them.

He’s outside, talking to Weston, still barefoot, still unbothered. I slip them back in their place and slowly close the drawer.

Watching him from the bedroom window, something soft unravels in my chest.

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