Page 18 of Say You Love Me

So when I got up early and cooked my special breakfast for Finity, I was surprised to see tears in her eyes. And that’s when she told me the story.

She told me of waking up to only her mother at home, explaining that her father had gone away on business. Her father had never gone away for business before, he worked as a gardener at the city’s botanical gardens, but Finity just accepted it as truth because why would her mother lie.

She doesn’t remember everything they did that day, but she does remember that her mother acted as though everything was normal. Finity had no idea that earlier, in the wee hours of the morning, an ambulance had been parked in their drive and the body of her father was wheeled out on a stretcher.

Her mother later told her the funeral had been a small affair, but Finity was denied the chance to say goodbye. For days they continued with life as normal. For weeks Finity would ask when her father was coming home. And then one day her mother snapped and spat out the words that would later haunt Finity for years to come.

Your father is dead.

Like anyone would, she wanted to know why, when, how, but her mother remained silent. She still does.

So this year, I’ve brought her to stay at our holiday home, the lake house. I let her birthday pass without comment. I don’t make her a special breakfast. I don’t buy her a gift. I tell my parents not to say a thing.

I wait until the day after the anniversary of when we met, the day after the anniversary of when she learned of her father’s death, a day where there are no memories, happy or sad, and I drag my Dad’s rowboat to the water.

Finity stares at it floating at the edge of the dock. “You want me to get into that?” She tests its steadiness by lowering her foot to the edge and the boat rocks violently before she turns to me with wide eyes. “We’ll tip out.”

I stretch out along the wooden planks and lean over the edge to hold it steady. “We won’t. Hop in.”

She pouts and places her hands on her hips in defiance.

“Hop in or I’m tossing you in.”

She laughs. There is nothing better than the sound of Finity’s laugh. Sometimes I think it’s what I live for. Her smile. Her laugh. Her love. They are the point of my existence.

“Fine.” She feigns exasperation and clutches onto my outstretched hand as she clambers on board. There’s something about that action, the way she grabs me, holds me for support, that makes my chest swell with pride. Once she’s safely onboard, I pretend to push the boat away from the jetty, letting her curse and yell at me as she looks about the dark water anxiously until I lift the rope, reducing the slack, and it pings into the air.

It’s a game we play. I tease. She pretends to react. We make up.

I’m still laughing at her annoyance when I climb into the boat. Instead of sitting opposite her, I sit behind, my legs spread either side of her hips, my chest shielding her from the chilly breeze. She sighs deeply and leans into me. Her hands lift and loop around my neck, tugging my head downward and demanding a kiss. Since I have had the last few days off work, I haven’t shaved and once she’s done kissing me, she grabs my cheek and rubs it against hers, sighing at the roughness.

The ring in my pocket burns.

I row until we’re in the middle of a sheltered cove, one where the lights of the houses and the marina are hidden. Grabbing for the blanket I packed, I pull her against my chest as I slide to the bottom of the boat. We’re stretched between two planks, my head resting on one, my feet on the other. My body is a hammock for Finity to lie on.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I say.

It’s something I’ve asked her often, a tradition we have for when the silence is thick and the night is dark. I’ll whisper it to her when she’s lazy with sleep in the wee hours of the morning, my hands moving to explore her body. I’ll ask her late at night when we are lying on the couch, the blur of the television passing before our eyes. I’ve held my lips close to her ear and said the words in a crowded nightclub, the dull bass of the music thudding through our veins. And I’ve tortured her as she’s lain trapped beneath me, her body pinned by mine, my dick buried deep inside her as she squirms, begging for release.

Finity shifts, smoothing her hair away from the back of her neck. The breeze plays with the loose strands and they get caught in my whiskers. She takes a deep breath as though she’s going to talk, but then stops herself. Her body sinks into mine.

“Something that’s true?”

I’m a little baffled by her question. She’s never asked for clarification before. I hook my chin over her head. “Tell me anything.”

“You see that star up there?”

She stretches her hand to the sky, one finger extended. It is a star like all the others, so I nod, my chin bobbing up and down against her skull.

“That’s the star my father told me was called the Finity star.” She laughs but it’s a sad laugh, a dismissive laugh. “He told me it was called the Finity star because it was different from all the others. Rare, just like me.” She sighs deeply. “He lied. It’s not the Finity star at all. It’s just a star.”

This isn’t going at all how I wanted it to. I wanted her to lie in my arms and whisper secrets to me, but not ones that make her sad. Not ones that bring back painful memories. I hold her close. The boat rocks gently in the breeze, the water making a dull thud each time it slaps against the tin.

After a long silence, Finity speaks, repeating the question just like I hoped she would. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

I smile even though she can’t see me. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the ring. “I want you to marry me.”

chapter nine

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