Page 88 of Songbird
That stupid machine starts beeping wildly, and I pretend it’s not giving away how fucking terrified I am. This is the stupidest and most impulsive thing I’ve ever done. It’s also the first thing to ever feel this right.
“Marry me,” I say again. “I know I haven’t done enough to prove that I deserve to put a ring on your finger, but I’m going to spend every day for the rest of my life earning your love, earning your trust, and earning the privilege of being the man who wakes up next to you every morning, falls asleep beside you every night, and watches you fly to greater heights every goddamn day of his life, knowing that the brighter you burn and the more music you make, the better the world will be.”
“You can’t mean that,” she whispers.
The ache in my thigh is nothing compared to the agony of waiting for Rosie to answer my question.
“I mean every word of it,” I say.
She shakes her head and I blink away tears, preparing to accept her rejection with as much composure I can manage. And she’d be right. I blame the meds. What the fuck am I thinking proposing to this magnificent woman when she’s got blood on her clothes and I’m half wrecked on intravenous pain relief?
Instead, Rosie carefully climbs onto the bed, arranging herself on my right side and tucking her body against mine. She rests her head on my chest.
“How can you say you’ve done nothing to earn my love or my trust?” she asks. “How can you look at what happened last night and believe that you didn’t demonstrate your commitment in a split second that’s going to last a lifetime and more? How can you lay here and tell me you need to prove anything when you literally sacrificed your life to save mine?”
The lump in my throat has nothing to do with my physical well-being anymore and everything to do with the vulnerability swelling too quickly in my chest. If she hasn’t thought of this herself, I don’t know why I’m determined to point it out. Maybe I do have a death wish.
“I’m the reason Lauren was there in the first place,” I tell her. “I’m the reason you were ever at risk.”
Rosie glances up, fierce enough to murder me with her bare hands, and I’ve never loved her or been prouder of her than I am in this moment.
“You’re the reason I’m alive,” she says, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks all over again. “And you’re the reason we’re going to be…”
Her chin quivers, bottom lip trembling and eyes overflowing with tears.
“What is it?” I ask, tightening my arm around her as best I can. “What are we going to be?”
Rosie shakes her head as a hesitant smile steals across her lips. “We’re going to be parents,” she says in barely a whisper.
My brow furrows and I’m certain the medication is scrambling my head as well as my hearing because I can’t make sense of what she’s saying. “Parents? What do you mean?”
She places my other hand on her flat stomach. “The hospital ran routine labs to make sure I was okay after the shooting and a doctor just told me…”
Something in my face must be reading all wrong, because Rosie frowns and swallows deeply.
“I didn’t know but it all makes sense now. The extra weight? My cosmetics smelling so strong they made my stomach turn? They’re early signs of pregnancy. And itisearly—just a couple of weeks. My birth control must have failed. I didn’t—”
“I’m going to be a dad?”
Rosie replies with a silent nod, and I stare into nothing as my entire future flashes before my eyes. Rosie. Children. A family. The tears I’ve been so valiantly holding back start to fall. All this time I’ve been searching for purpose and here it is. Love.
“Finn?” Rosie squeezes my hand where it still rests on her stomach. “Say something. Please.”
“I love you,” I tell her, hoping she can see the weight of those words shining in my eyes. “I want to give you and our child the life and the love that my parents gave me. Every day of the rest of your life will be filled with joy and laughter and pleasure and fulfillment because it’ll be my mission here on this planet to make it so. I love you, Songbird. Marry me. Please.”
“Yes.”
“Yes? Are you sure?”
Rosie laughs, and when she leans in to kiss me, it’s soft and sweet until I tangle my hand in her hair and press her mouth harder against mine.
“Yes,” she says again. “I’ll marry you.”
I can’t stop kissing her, and I don’t—until the incessant wild beeping of my heart monitor sends the nursing staff running.
thirty-four
Rosie
