Page 103 of My Favorite Bad Decision
For her sake and my own, I won’t risk my life like this again.
I’ll still do my six-month excursions going forward, but they won’t be things that terrify her. Hopefully, they’ll be things she’ll do with me.
The sun rises during our final push but the wind is blowing so hard that the snow is blinding. I put on goggles and dream of Kit. If all goes as I hope, we’ll be leaving for Starfish Cay just after we land in New York, though she’s unaware of this—Maren has already packed her bags. It’ll be our last vacation for a while. Work on the new app is already underway and she’ll be back in school...so I’m hoping to make it a good one.
The image of Kit grinning at me in waist-deep water becomes so real that I actually think she’s here. I turn on the regulator to take in some oxygen, and that becomes my rule for the next two hours: when I start thinking I see Kit standing in the water or sitting on a kitchen counter, I know I need air.
We reach the summit around seven in the morning. The sky is a cloudless blue and the white-capped peaks—illuminated by the bright morning sun—stretch so far in every direction that it would be easy to believe they go on forever if you didn’t know better. It’s magical, an unforgettable moment, but I’d give it all up to be looking at her face instead.
We take some pictures and then Magnus, the expedition’s leader, grins at me. “We doing this?” he asks.
I nod as I pull out my phone and the SatSleeve that will allow it to connect. “Wish me luck.”
The guys line up. We take the picture, and I hitsendjust before I call her. It’ll take a few minutes for the photo to arrive.
I hope this works.
She answers immediately, breathless. I’m guessing she didn’t sleep all night, which makes two of us. “Did you make it?” she asks, her voice tight with panic.
“I’m here right now.”
“Thank God.” She exhales in relief. “You’re okay? You’ve got enough oxygen?”
“I’m great,” I reply. “But I had a question. Can you check to see if the text I sent arrived?”
“Youtextedme?” she asks. “Hang on, wait, oh, yeah, something’s here. It’s?—”
She sucks in a breath. Behind me, the guys are still holding the sign asking her to marry me, one I’ve had rolled up in my backpack now for forty days straight.
They’re holding it in the photo.
I’m holding a ring box.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, all the breath leaving with the words.
“Will you marry me, Kit?”
She sniffles and laughs. “I guess I know why Mare was so insistent on getting me a manicure. Did you get my dad’s permission?”
“I asked him months ago. And he said I was welcome to try but that you’d probably make me work for it. Was this good enough?”
“It was good enough,” she says, crying. “Yes. I’ll marry you. Now get down here so you can ask me in person.”
* * *
Two days later,we finish the descent. She’s waiting outside the tent, stamping her feet to stay warm. She runs when she sees me, and I drop my pack on the ground as I pull her close.
“I like that greeting, Mrs. West.”
She wraps her legs around me and presses her mouth to mine. “I’m not taking your name. I’m proud to be a Fischer.”
“Hyphenated then. Fischer-West?”
“We’ll see,” she says, and she kisses me again.
I start moving toward the tent. “What about when we have kids? You’re not going to insist they takeyourname, right?”
“We’ve been engaged for two days. Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?”
“I’ve been ahead of myself since you were seventeen. You can’t expect me to break the habit now that you’re mine.”
She smiles, placing her hands on my jaw. “Maybe I’ll hyphenate if your grandfather builds me a library.”
For over a decade now, she’s been giving me shit about that. I suspect she’ll be doing it for the rest of my life.
As long as she lets me grow old with her, she can say any damn thing she wants.
THE END
