Page 6 of Forever Oblivion

She clasped her hands, eyes shining. “I love the idea of a tasting menu.”

“I love how excited you are.”

Her eyes softened. “I love you. Thank you for going to all this trouble, Nash. It’s so beautiful. I mean…goodness, look at this.”

I settled my hand in my pocket. Now. This was the moment. I clutched the box. Aya had turned back to face the sea, giving me her profile. I wanted this snapshot in my mind and soul forever.

I clicked open the box lid. The tiny sound seemed to reverberate through my hand and straight into my heart.

“Aya? Love?”

She turned. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes flew wide. “What?”

I sank to my knees in front of her. Not one knee—this woman owned me, and I was proud to let her and the world know it.

“Well, see, I bought you this ring.”

I plucked it from its white satin bed, enjoying the sparkle of the large, round central stone. The band was platinum, the right side smooth. The left side held a channel of baguette diamonds that circled the main diamond before slithering back to the smooth platinum. I loved the intertwined-ness of the ring. In many ways its infinity-like symbol was a second promise—that I’d love her forever.

She placed her fingertips to her lips, the short, pink-polished nails gleaming in the candlelight.

“I thought it would look spectacular on you.”

I held it a little closer. Her gaze followed.

“I want it there, on that left ring finger, to tell the world you’re mine. To let everyone know you have my loyalty, my future, my heart—my sober-ass soul.”

Her eyes begged me to continue. I cleared my throat. “I bought the matching wedding band…” My voice cracked. Fuck. Shit. Hell. My fingers shook. She steadied my hand in both of hers. I was able to breathe again. This is what we did for each other.

“It also sparkles because you light up my life, and I want everyone to know just how much. My band doesn’t sparkle, but it matches yours. It’s a little thicker, smooth and perfect—like our love. I was hoping you might want to wear this one now and get the other one soon. Because I’d really like to proclaim to the world that you’re my love. My only love.”

My nerves bloomed as her face shifted and her hands shook around mine. I’d assumed she wanted this. I’d thought she was as ready as I was.

My voice caught in my throat, and I barely managed to push out, “Do you…do you think that might be something you’d like to do?”

Her big, wide eyes returned to my face. The look there settled me. My heart no longer felt as if it was on a frantic gallop through my lungs.

“Canon in D” flitted through my head. Oh, yes, we’d have to have Aya walk down the aisle to that classic. She’d make the instrumental come alive.

“Yes, Nash,” she said, her voice stronger than mine had been. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.” She practically bounced in her chair. “This has been my greatest fantasy since I was five. Definitely since I was a teenager.”

I slid the ring onto her finger. “I’m going to make all your fantasies come true, love. Every last one of them.”

I shuffled closer and placed my hand on the back of her neck. With care, I let my lips drift over hers, a soft, sensual glide, just as I hoped we’d always be on. This kiss was special because it bound her to me permanently. Figuratively, at least.

We’d been tested by capricious fates, my stupidity, and her insecurities. We’d fought back the world and our own demons. We’d found our place and our peace—it was together. That’s where we were strongest and most able to fend off whatever the world threw at us. I knew our relationship wouldn’t always be easy. The demands on our time were too great for a simple, uncomplicated life.

But we would make the commitment to each other, make it integral, forcing everything to spiral outward from that. It would give us the foundation we’d need to weather those storms, and to find comfort, connection, and caring in each other. Songs burst through my mind, an array of new melodies I’d play sometime.

Not now. Now, I’d enjoy kissing my bride-to-be and beginning the life I’d once been too afraid to even hope for.

4

Aya

Somehow, Nash continued to astound me. I stared down at the ring he slid on my finger, which was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. It was beautiful, of course, though rather big—definitely not understated. But because he’d given it to me, I loved it and everything it represented.

When I’d run, scared and heartbroken, Nash had taken me back. When he’d lashed out, I’d soothed him. We’d hurt each other, cut so deeply we’d always have those scars. Yet somehow, we kept coming home. My home was Nash, just as his was me.

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