Page 131 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
She stares at me for a long time, eyes wide, and I wonder if I’ve gone too far. But then the look on her face softens, and something shifts between us.
“I’m asking you…” I say, as I open the box to reveal a simple, beautiful ring. Not too flashy, just something that feelsher. “Will you marry me, Sunny? I want to make this real. I want us to build something together. No more running. No more hiding. Just… us.”
For a moment, she doesn’t say anything. Her eyes are locked on the ring, her mouth parted slightly. I hold my breath, waiting for her answer, trying to steady myself. This is it. This is the moment.
And then, finally, her eyes meet mine. They’re glistening, soft, but full of something I can’t quite place.
“Yes,” she says quietly. “Yes. A million times yes.”
And the strain I didn’t even realize I was under disappears. I can breathe again. I can live again because she’s saying yes. She’s choosing me.
She’s choosing us.
I slide the ring on her finger, the world suddenly so much brighter, and pull her into my arms. And just like that, the fire in the room isn’t the only thing warming me up.
I see her pulse jump in her throat, her fingers tightening around the edges of the check, and for a moment, I wonder if it’s all just too much.
I wouldn’t blame her if it were.
Epilogue
SUNNY
June 3rd
I’ve never been sohot in my life.
And that’s saying something, considering I spent my last summer in Chicago in a two-hundred-year-old apartment with a broken AC.
But this? This is something else. I’m being slowly suffocated by a hundred layers of fabric and lace.
I know I’m supposed to be feeling excited, but all I feel is hot and stressed. The dress, though beautiful, feels like it was made for someone who actually has a waist, not for someone carrying two very enthusiastic babies who are currently performing synchronized kicks.
“You okay in there?” Marjorie’s voice floats through the door, and I take a deep breath.
“I’m fine,” I say, trying to sound convincing.
But I’m not fine. I’m sweltering. I’m sweaty. I’m nervous. And I can’t even tie the back of this damn dress.
“You’re glowing, girl,” Claire chimes in from somewhere outside the door. “It’s the pregnancy. Makes everyone look radiant.”
“Yeah… thanks.”
I’m not sure how much I’m glowing when I’m about to melt into a puddle of tulle and exhaustion.
I lean back against the chair, trying to catch my breath. The twins are moving again. A little too enthusiastically for my taste.
“I’m just, ugh, getting a little frustrated,” I confess. “It’s the dress, I think. I feel like I’m in a balloon.”
The door creaks open, and Marjorie’s head pops in first, followed by Claire, both of them with expressions of sympathy.
“Oh, sweetie.” Marjorie chuckles. “You look like a beautiful, glowing balloon, though.”
I shoot her a half-hearted glare. “Not funny.”
“Okay, okay, maybe not,” Claire adds, stepping fully into the room with a knowing smile. “But seriously, you’re carrying twins, Sunny. No one expects you to look like a perfect, wrinkle-free princess right now.”
That makes me feel a little better. “Yeah, well, the twins didn’t get the memo about looking perfect. They’re practicing their gymnastics routine in there.”
