Page 105 of Liberating Bells
I meander through the house and wind up in the office space. The room is made up of a desk with a chair, a computer setup, and a few bookshelves stacked with books. My eyes scan the spines of the books before I find one and pull it out of its place. I settle in on the living room couch and pull a blanket over me.
I get lost in the story, and before long, I hear the sound of a car door slamming outside. The front door unlocks, and Ryan comes barreling in with plastic grocery bags in his hands.
“Do you need help?” I ask him, sitting up straight.
He waves me off. “No, go back to your book. I got it.”
I lean back into my seat and watch him. “Are you feeding an army?” I question when he comes in from his second trip, his hands full of bags again.
Ryan laughs. “I thought I’d stock up on some necessities while I was there. That way, we’ll be a little better off next time.” He sets the bags on the counter and starts putting things away. “I just got some simple things to cook this weekend: eggs,hamburger meat, chicken. And then the staples: eggs, bread, milk, cheese.”
“Much better than fish and canned peaches for every meal,” I tease him.
He winks at me. “Much. Not that I’m complaining. That was better than nothing at that point.”
“I still don’t like canned peaches,” I say, my lips pulling up into a smile.
He grins back. “Me neither.”
“Well, then I guess it’s bad luck that our cabinet is full of them.”
“I’ll give them to a food bank. No reason to put perfectly good food to waste,” Ryan says before going back to the groceries. “Go back to your book, Bells. I’ll come bother you when I’m done.”
I laugh under my breath, but adjust my legs and open my book to where I left off. Ryan mutters to himself while he works, and I continue to read with a smile on my face. After a while, Ryan comes over to stand in front of me. He kneels on the floor and looks at me with a warm smile. He’s got one of his hands behind his back. I look at him, confused.
“I got something for you, Bells,” he says, reaching for my hand.
Oh my God, is he going to propose?
The thought flashes through my mind, unwarranted, and my heart skips a beat. My body lights up with excitement. We’ve skirted around the topic for weeks now, but I know Ryan plans to marry me at some point. He has always wanted me to be his wife.
Ryan turns my hand, palm side up, and then pulls whatever he’s hiding from behind his back. He sets it in my hand, and my spirits drop.
“Surprise!” he exclaims with an elated expression.
In my hand rests a pint of Edy’s slow-churned cookie dough ice cream. I try to keep my face as light as possible, feigning a look of surprise. But I can’t help the feeling of disappointment that’s settling in my gut.
Why do I even feel disappointed? I have everything I could ever want. I have an incredible man who fought for me with everything in him, who built me this stunning cabin, who bought me ice cream.
I guess I never realized how badlyIwanted to be his wife until this moment.
I bottle up the emotion and shove it deep. There’s no sense in marinating in this sour feeling. It will happen someday. It’s not a matter of if, but when.
But until then, I guess I’ll take what I can get because he’s worth every second.
38
RYAN
I wakeup to an empty bed. My hand extends, looking for Izabel’s form next to me. When I don’t find her, I sit up slightly, looking around the room. I’m met with silence. Sunlight is just barely streaming through the bedroom curtains. Maybe she got up early.
Miraculously, Izabel had no nightmares last night. She didn’t make a single peep all night long. I hope, for once, she felt rested enough to get up early and enjoy the day. Tossing the covers back from the bed, I roll out, finding my sweatpants and slipping them on, not worrying about any boxers.
I pad my way out of the bedroom and into the main living area of the cabin.There she is. Izabel is curled up on the couch, her feet tucked underneath her. She’s wrapped up in one of the fluffy blue robes from our bathroom, a mug of warm steaming liquid is in her hands. As I step closer, I see it’s hot chocolate.
She doesn’t hear me sneaking up behind her. Her eyes are gazing out the front window. As I look over that way, I can see why. Snow is gently falling from the sky in big flakes, dusting the ground, creating a cozy “Cabin-in-the-mountains” aesthetic.
I come up close behind Izabel and then lean over, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. She startles a little bit and squeaks, a dribble of her hot cocoa slipping down the side of the mug.
