"Are exhausted. They'll sleep throughanythingtonight." He's already carrying me through the house. "And we need to christen our bedroom. Officially."
"We've been christening it for two weeks," I laugh.
"Not as my fiancée," he points out, kicking our door shut. "Completely different thing."
"Is it now?"
"Absolutely. Changes everything." He sets me on my feet, hands already working at my clothes. "My future wife. Fuck, I love how that sounds."
What follows is a thorough and very satisfying celebration of our engagement.
Rio is attentive and passionate, whispering promises against my skin between kisses.
When he says "my wife" experimentally, I nearly combust.
"Say it again," I gasp.
"My wife," he growls, moving deeper. "Mine. Forever."
"Yours," I agree, then flip us over because two can play this game. "My husband."
His eyes go dark. "Fuck yes."
After, we lie tangled together, both breathless and satisfied.
"We should probably get rings before we tell anyone," I say eventually.
"Tomorrow," he agrees. "Let the girls help pick them out. They'll love that."
"They're going to be so excited."
"Cali's going to want to be flower girl."
"Florencia will want to plan everything."
"We'll let them." He pulls me closer. "Whatever makes them happy."
"What about what makes you happy?"
"You. This. Our life together." He kisses my hair. "I never thought I'd have this again after Flora. Never thought I deserved it."
"You deserve everything," I tell him fiercely. "Love and happiness and peace."
"Got all that now." His voice is getting sleepy. "Got you."
"Always," I promise.
I lie awake a little longer, listening to him breathe, marveling at how much life has changed.
Two weeks ago, I was serving coffee and living alone.
Now I'm engaged to the love of my life, mother to two amazing girls, part of a massive extended family that would kill or die for each other.
It should be overwhelming. Instead, it feels like it was always meant to be.
"Love you," I whisper into the darkness.
"Love you too," he mumbles, pulling me impossibly closer.