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Chapter 35

AN: Thanks to Bianca, Veronica, Laureen, and ESPECIALLY Mary and Susan for the ideas!! :)

“Are you okay?”

Nick looked over at Claire, who had quietly asked the question as soon as they had reached the parking lot of Dr. Somers’ office. She looked up at him, her expression meek, her eyes troubled.

“I’m okay,” he answered her with a nod, hoping to alleviate her worries. Surprisingly enough, he was being honest. Seeing Leah had caught him off-guard, that was for sure – she was the last person he’d expected to meet up with that afternoon. But he’d come away from their encounter reasonably unscathed, and he felt much better than he had the last time he’d seen her, in a grocery store the previous year. The way she had looked at him, the haughty arrogance on her face and in her voice… it had bothered him then. But this time, he’d realized after he’d had a chance to re-compose himself, it hadn’t bothered him so much. If she had been trying to make him jealous, it hadn’t worked. She was “happily” married and had a beautiful child… so what? He was happy too – reasonably happy, most of the time – and he had Claire.

Claire… she’d been both his weapon and his shield. Just having her there by his side and feeling her arm around him had comforted him and given him confidence. Leah was his past, he’d been reminded. Claire was his present… and his future. There was no need to keep dwelling on the past when he had that kind of a future to look forward to.

Claire reached for his hand and gave it a warm squeeze. “I’m sorry,” she said as they walked to his Jag. “I was hoping you wouldn’t run into her… I almost forgot she was there, until she came out.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “You couldn’t help it. It wasn’t the first time I’ve run into her since… well, you know… and I’m sure it won’t be the last time. We live in the same city.”

Claire nodded. “As long as you’re okay.” She paused, then added, “You were right, you know. She is a bitch. All that fake sweet talk… ugh.”

Nick chuckled. “Oh, I know… believe me, I know.” With the push of a button on his keychain, he unlocked the car doors, and he and Claire climbed in.

“So,” Claire said, fastening her seatbelt, “where are we headed?”

“Home,” answered Nick automatically and waited until she looked over him, unable to hide the disappointment on her face. With a grin, he added, “To change. Then we’re going out.”

Her look of disappointment transformed to one of excitement. “Really?”

“Really,” he promised as he backed out of his parking space. “I want to make up for these last few weeks… I know they sucked for you too, and I’m sor-“

“Don’t apologize,” Claire silenced him, touching his arm. “We’ve already been through this.”

“I know,” he said sheepishly, “but I still feel bad, and I want to make it up to you and treat you right. So we’re going to go out and live it up fancy tonight. It’s July 1 – we’re gonna put the shitty month of June behind us and start this month off on the right foot.”

“Sounds great, Nick,” Claire replied, flashing him a broad smile. A moment later, she added wryly, “So speaking of the right foot… or left, I should say… how’s it holding up?”

“Oh!” Nick exclaimed, realizing she was talking about his fake leg. “Um, good so far, actually.”

“Good! I know I don’t have to tell you to make sure you don’t overdo it this time, right?”

“No, you don’t, Mom.” Taking his eyes off traffic, Nick glanced over and gave her a quick wink. She didn’t have to tell him, that was for sure. He wasn’t stupid – there was no way in hell he was going to mess things up like that ever again. He was going to wear his leg out that night, but he didn’t have anything strenuous planned – an elegant dinner at Tampa’s most extravagant restaurant (after what he’d put her through, Claire deserved nothing less than a five-course meal at a five-star restaurant) and after that, maybe a walk on the beach. A simple date, but he thought it was romantic and hoped she would like it too.

“So where are we going?” Claire asked again once they’d reached home. “I mean, what should I change into?”

“Something dressy,” replied Nick. “We’re goin’ fancy tonight, baby.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but did not protest. An hour later, she was back in the car beside Nick, looking sophisticated and pretty in a little black dress that hugged all the right curves and flattered her figure. A small aquamarine pendant hung on a delicate silver chain around her neck, and in her ears were matching earrings. She’d touched up her makeup, adding more than she usually wore, and pinned up her hair, leaving little wisps swirling around her face. Rarely did she dress up this way, and though he liked her natural look just fine, he had to admit, he enjoyed seeing her like this.

“Wow… we are going fancy!” Claire exclaimed as Nick pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

“You ever eaten here before?” Nick asked as he came to a stop and put the car into park.

She laughed. “Ha, like I could afford this. Or have ever dated someone who could afford this.”

He smiled awkwardly and adjusted the lapel of his black Armani suit. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, I guess. You’ll get a kick out of this place; it’s fine dining, all the way… I’m talking five-course meals, multiple forks…” He chattered on and on as he came around to her side of the car and offered her his arm, trying to be a gentleman. Smirking, she took it, and together they crossed the parking lot, her heels clacking against the pavement. Their pace was slow, as she appeared to be struggling to stay in her strappy shoes, while he struggled to simply walk normally, without an obvious limp. (A month off of his leg had left him out of practice.) They made quite a pair, he was sure.

“Monsieur Carter,” the maitre d’ greeted Nick as he escorted Claire into the elaborately-decorated entrance area of the restaurant. “Your table is set, if you would just follow me…” The tuxedoed host led Nick and Claire through an elegant dining room to a small, private room in the back. “Mademoiselle,” he murmured, pulling out Claire’s chair for her.

“Thank you,” she said, sinking down lightly into the chair. After the maitre d’ had seated Nick as well and left the private room, Claire burst out laughing. “He called me ‘Mademoiselle!’” she cried. “I’ve never been anywhere where they call you ‘Mademoiselle’!”

“Well, get used to it, Mademoiselle. When you’re with me, it’s first class all the way,” Nick replied with a smirk and a wink.

“Oh right, Monsieur Carter.” She rolled her eyes and grinned across the table at him. “I have a feeling this place is going to make me feel like some uncultured hick.”

“Eh, you won’t be alone there; I always feel that way in places like this,” Nick told her truthfully, shrugging. “But it’s fun once in awhile. And I wanted to take you someplace fancy. Only zee best for my mademoiselle,” he added in a French accent.

Claire giggled. “I’ll say. Look at all this silverware!” She eyed the shiny silver utensils, neatly lined up on both sides of her plate.

“I told you!” Nick exclaimed.

“Do you know the etiquette for stuff like this? Which fork to use first and whatnot?”

Nick shrugged. “I just start from the outside and work my way in; that’s what Kevin told me once.”

“Good enough for me,” she said with a laugh.

A waiter came to take their wine order, and before long, they were both sipping on glasses of an expensive, rich wine. The first course came next, some kind of mushroom soup. Claire was not even halfway through her bowl when the waiter brought the next course, a fillet of salmon with red wine.

“How is zee fish, Mademoiselle?” asked Nick in the same French accent, as she picked up the fork furthest from her plate and took a bite.

“Très ex-zee-lent,” she replied in an equally terrible accent, grinning. “And yours, Monsieur?”

“Oui oui, très… good.”

Claire giggled. The giggling continued through the remaining three courses, increasing with each glass of wine she finished. Nick was not much better. By the time dessert arrived, he was reciting poetry in a Pepe Le Pew voice. But the only romantic poetry he knew was song lyrics, and the only love songs he could think of on the spot were Backstreet Boys’ ones, which made Claire laugh even harder.

“ ‘Every leetle zing zat you have said and done, feels like eet’s deep within moi… doesn’t reelly matter eef you’re on zee run, seems like we’re meant to be…’ ”

Claire snorted. “Who wrote those lyrics anyway? Isn’t that a little creepy, not caring who someone is, what they’ve done, whether or not they’re on the run…?”

“Hey, don’t be dissing Max Martin; he’s da man,” Nick warned, momentarily forgetting the French accent.

“My bad. Continue.” She took another drink of wine and did a fancy little flip of her wrist, motioning him on.

Nick racked his brain, trying to think of more song lyrics. He went with the first words that popped into his head. “ ‘I stare at your face, into your eyes… outside zere eez so much passing us by… all of zee sounds, all of zee sights… over zee Earth and under zee sky…’ ”

Claire wasn’t laughing this time, but she did smile. “That’s the song you sang to me in the hospital.”

“Yeah… it is,” he realized. He hadn’t even thought of that when he had started reciting the lyrics, but as soon as she said it, he remembered. Maybe that was why it was those lyrics that had materialized in his head… they were special to her, even if he had not realized it right then.

“ ‘Too much cold and too much rain… too much heartache to explain…’ ” Claire smiled. “I like this song a lot better than the creepy ‘I don’t care if you’re a serial killer, as long as you love me’ one.”

Nick smirked. “Good… at least you like one of them.”

“It’s a sweet song. You sound sweet singing it.”

He grimaced. “I probably didn’t that day.” In his mind, he traveled back to that day, to that moment, when Claire, weak, feverish, and in pain, had asked him to sing for her. It was not a moment he liked to think about.

“You sounded beautiful, Nick.” Her smile was sincere, but he didn’t believe her.

“You were all doped off at the time, and you’re tone deaf,” he said with a playful smirk.

“And I thought it was beautiful. And that’s all that matters, right?” She flashed him a toothy grin.

Nick chuckled. “Zat iz true, Mademoiselle.”

Claire dipped her spoon into the lavish mousse sitting in front of her. “Mmm,” she said, “this is really good. Best part of the meal. And I’m gonna eat it all.”

“Hungry?” Nick asked, watching as she shoveled another large spoonful of the rich dessert into her mouth.

“I shouldn’t be, after five courses,” she replied, swallowing, “but yeah.”

“The portions here are tiny though,” said Nick – he was still hungry too. “Damned skinny French people… don’t know anything about American appetites.” Claire giggled again. “Next time, we’ll go to a steak house and eat till we puke.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Claire nodded as she finished the last bite of mousse.

“We could pick up a pizza on the way home, if you want.”

“Hm… I could go for pizza, if you’re still hungry too.”

Nick nodded. “Let’s get pizza.”

“Call Leonardi’s now – then it’ll be about ready by the time we leave and drive over there.”

Snickering, Nick dug his cell phone out of the pocket of his dress pants. Claire sat across from him and laughed the whole time, as he called for the number for Leonardi’s and then placed their pizza order from the middle of the finest French restaurant in Tampa. “Twenty minutes,” he said with a grin as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Half an hour later, they were on their way home, a pizza box filling the car with the delicious aroma of bubbling cheese and spicy pepperoni, while a 12-pack of beer slid across the leather backseat every time Nick made a turn.

“This is more like it,” said Claire, licking pizza sauce off her fingers as they sat side by side on Nick’s couch, the open pizza box on the coffee table in front of them.

Nick took a long swig from his beer and burped loudly. “You said it, babe.”

“Charming,” Claire smirked and let out a low groan. “I’m stuffed now.”

“Me too,” Nick agreed, patting his stomach. “You wanna shove the rest in the fridge?”

“Sure.” Sliding off the couch, Claire scooped up the pizza box and carried it into the kitchen. When she returned, she asked, “So… what now? Movie?”

Nick made a face; he’d watched way too many movies over the last month. “Can we just go take a walk or something?”

Claire smiled. “A walk sounds great.” She held out her hand, and he grabbed it, standing up. Together, they went out onto the deck and down to the beach. The sun was just setting over the water, casting a beautiful reflection of rich purple and orange across the rolling waves. Nick had lived along the beach for years, and he still never got over the beauty of the sunset. A cheesy thought, maybe, but seeing the sun set over the gulf was one of those little things that made him glad to be alive. It was something special, something he was glad to be sharing with Claire on their six-month anniversary.

When they reached the sand, Claire stopped and kicked off her black flip-flops, which she’d traded with the heels she’d worn to the restaurant. She was still in her dress, though, and he in his suit (minus the jacket and tie, which had been discarded on the living room floor). He balanced on his prosthesis and held on lightly to her arm as he lifted his good leg and reached down to tug off his shiny black dress shoe and black sock. He set his bare foot down and dug his toes into the warm sand. Then he bent and untied the laces of his left shoe before carefully pulling it off. He slid the sock off as well, exposing the plastic foot of his artificial leg, and rolled up the cuffs of his black pants.

“Ready?” Claire asked as he straightened up.

“Yep.” He took her hand, letting his fingers slip between hers, and they started off down the beach. They wandered leisurely along the water’s edge, the waves lapping at their ankles as they rolled in and out. Hand in hand, they walked in peaceful silence, each lost in thought and simply enjoying the moment. Every now and then Claire’s hand would slip out of his as she darted into the surf, returning with a shell she’d scooped up from the water-logged beach. “You’re like a little kid,” Nick joked the third time this happened, remembering how he himself had ran in and out of the tide as a little boy, jumping waves as if they were hurdles and picking up interesting shells along the way. He’d had quite a collection of them at one time, but his big glass jars of seashells were gone now. They’d been thrown out, he supposed, during a move or something. Funny, he almost missed them now, though he wasn’t quite sure why. After all, they were just a bunch of old shells…

“So what?” Claire asked with a casual shrug. “It’s fun to be able to act like a kid again sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Nick said, wistfully thinking of those trips to the beach during his childhood again, when he had run like the wind, through the sand and into the sea, laughing and playing without a care in the world. Those were good times… happy times… innocent times. Before life became so complicated. Sometimes he did wish he could go back.

But then again, this moment in itself was pretty nice. It felt good to get out of the house and do something with Claire, even something as simple as this, a walk down the beach at dusk. Nick enjoyed the exercise, although as Claire let go of his hand again to collect another shell, he felt a familiar twinge in his stump. He stopped, then carefully put weight on his left leg, testing it. Sure enough, pressure turned to slight pain. Groaning, he looked back to see how far they’d gone from his house. Not too far – he could still see it, the lights in the windows casting a glow through rapidly darkening night – but it was farther than he wanted to walk at the moment, knowing the pain would only increase with each step. He’d pushed himself enough already that night… he knew it would stupid to go further and get hurt again.

“You ready?” Claire had returned.

He looked down at her. “Um… you think we could rest for a minute? I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly, “but-“

“No, no, that’s fine!” she interrupted him, smiling as she took hold of his arm. “Come on, let’s go sit down where it’s dry.”

Relieved, Nick let her lead him a few feet away from the water, where the sand lay arid and untouched. He eased himself down and stretched his legs out in front of him; it felt good to take a load off. Claire plopped down beside him, folding her legs to the side and smoothing the skirt of her dress over her knees. “Is it hurting?” she asked hesitantly, looking down at his left leg and then back up at him, her expression pained.

“Just a little,” he told her. “I just thought maybe I should stop and take the weight off it for a few minutes.”

She nodded. “Good idea. I guess it’ll probably take you a little while to get used to walking on it again, won’t it?”

“Probably,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? This is nice, sitting out here. It’s so quiet… and peaceful, you know? It’s a good place to just sit and talk.”

“I know,” said Nick, smiling at her. She smiled back and reached for his hand. He let her take it, entwining his fingers with hers once again. “So…” he murmured, running his thumb lightly up and down hers. “Six months, huh?”

“Six months,” she repeated softly, another smile lighting her face.

“Can I make a confession?”

“What?”

Nick swallowed back the guilt that had risen in his throat and offered her a sheepish grin. “I don’t have anything for you. I-I should have gotten you a gift, and… well, I…” He shrugged, showing her an empty hand. “I’m sorry.”

Claire snickered and shook her head. “Nah, don’t be sorry; I don’t have anything for you either. And I have no excuse – I haven’t been stuck at home for the last month. I just wasn’t sure what to get… or if we were even doing anniversary presents. So we’re even, okay? We can just be each other’s gifts.” She flashed him a cheeky smile.

He smiled back weakly. “That’s fine with me, but I think you got the raw end of the deal there, my dear. I’m damaged goods… you might have to return me.”

The smile left Claire’s face instantly, and she gave him a warning look. “Nick… please, don’t say stuff like that.”

“I was just kidding,” he said quickly – and he had been. But how could she have known that? She’d been dragged to so many of the pity parties he’d thrown himself in the last month, she’d probably forgotten he even had a sense of humor. He sighed. “Seriously though, Claire… I know I haven’t been acting like a very good gift lately.”

“How exactly does one act like a gift?” she asked, hiding a smirk.

He stuck his tongue out at her. “You know what I mean. I haven’t been acting like a very good boyfriend. I don’t know if I’ve shown it or not, but… even if the last month has been kind of shitty, I want you to know that I’m really glad you’re here… that you’re living with me. I know it hasn’t been easy for you, but I promise, it’ll get better.”

“I know,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Why do you think I’m still here? I know the last month has sucked for you, Nick, and I also knew that you’d snap out of your pissy little mood once it was over.”

“You know me too well,” he said, grateful, as always, for her compassion. He’d never been with a girl that understood him as well as Claire did. His past girlfriends had put up with him, for his money, or his fame. But he knew she wasn’t like the others; she wasn’t in this to get rich and famous off of him. She was still with him because she truly loved him – there was no other explanation. Any other woman would have left him by now, he felt certain. But not Claire. She’d been with him for six whole months, and by his side as a friend for much longer than that. It added up to only a little over two years, but to Nick, it seemed like so much more than that. He felt like he’d known her forever. And he hoped that he would know her forever, that their six months would turn to years… years and years together. Never had he thought about being with one woman for that long. He’d loved Leah, enough to propose marriage, but deep down, he had known their relationship would not last forever. But he and Claire… they had been through so much together already… “forever” didn’t seem like such a hard goal to achieve.

“Whatcha thinking about?” asked Claire, and, realizing he had slipped away for a moment, Nick looked up to find her gazing at him, a hint of a smile curving her lips.

“You,” he replied honestly. “How you’re the only person I’ve ever felt this way about.”

Her smile grew. “What way?” she asked, a playful gleam in her eyes.

“Like…” He paused, struggling to put his thoughts into words. “Like I want to be with you… for… for a long time. I’ve never been very good at making long-term commitments with people… and when I try, I end up getting burned, because I find out that the girls I’m with… they don’t want to be with me. They’re in love with my name, my face, my bank account. But you’re different, Claire. I love you… like I’ve never loved anyone before… and I know that you love me too.”

“I do,” she whispered, tightening her grip on his hand as she looked into his eyes, her face showing the honesty in her words.

He nodded and swallowed. “That’s what keeps me going sometimes… knowing that you’re there for me, that someone still cares about me the way you do. I have to remind myself of that sometimes… on mornings when I wake up and see this goddamn stump under my covers and don’t feel like even getting out of bed. I think of you, and I remind myself that I have to get up and get dressed and put on my leg, for you… because I never want to disappoint you.”

“Nick… I… I guess I’m flattered in a way, but… honey, you should be doing those things for you, not for me. You shouldn’t worry about disappointing me… you could never disappoint me.” Leaning forward, she put her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. “I love you,” she whispered into his ear. “Even when you lie in bed all day, moping.” She brought her lips to the side of his neck, placing a tender kiss there. He squirmed and instinctively burrowed his head into his shoulder to get her away from the ticklish spot. She drew back, giggling softly. “Ticklish much?”

“Shut up,” he retorted with a sheepish grin, rubbing the spot where she had kissed him.

She laughed, and then without warning, slapped one of her shins. “Mosquito,” she said, when Nick gave her a look of bewilderment. “Damn things are always trying to eat me alive.”

“Oh…” Nick looked around, hoping there weren’t more. “Maybe we should head back.”

“Only when you’re ready.”

“I wouldn’t want you to get a West Nile or some shit like that.”

Claire snickered. “Oh man, that would sure be the kicker, wouldn’t it? Survive leukemia; die of West Nile Virus? What are the chances?”

It wasn’t really funny, but Nick smiled a little. He loved her attitude; she wasn’t afraid of anything. Well, she was – and he knew it – but she hid it well. He knew that too. “Come on,” he said and struggled to his feet, always a difficult task.

“Are you sure?” asked Claire, who hadn’t moved. She looked up at him, moderate concern on her face.

“Wouldn’t have gotten up if I wasn’t sure,” replied Nick. “Too much of a hassle.”

She offered a sympathetic smile and stood up as well, brushing sand off the back of her dress. “I think we could use a trip to the dry cleaner’s tomorrow,” she commented, making a face. “My butt’s all sandy. So is yours.” He giggled as she gave his ass a swat, wiping loose grains of sand off of his pants. “There, that’s better,” she said. “Let’s go. I’m ready to get out of this dress and into some pj’s.”

“I’m ready for another beer,” said Nick.

“That too.” Claire reached for his hand again, and they started slowly back up the beach, toward the house. Nick didn’t realize how much he was limping until Claire stopped and looked over at him. “You’re hurting, aren’t you?” she asked.

Nick shrugged. The rest had made his stump feel better, but walking brought back the discomfort. It wasn’t unbearable – no worse than the strain he’d felt in it when he’d first learned to walk on the artificial leg – but he couldn’t deny that it did hurt a little. “Not bad,” he told her, “but yeah… a little.”

“Do you wanna sit down again?”

“No,” Nick said quickly. “No, let’s just keep going. I can make it.”

“I don’t want you to get another ulcer…”

“I haven’t overdone it that much,” Nick said assuredly. “It’s just like when your feet get tired after walking around all day… that’s all it is.”

Claire bit her lip, looking uncertain, but finally, she nodded. “Okay, come on. But here, put your arm around my shoulders…” She guided his left arm over her shoulders and slid her right arm around his waist, offering him some support. “Will that help, if you lean on me a little?”

He hated having to rely on someone like this, but he had to admit, it did help, having her to take some of the weight off his left leg. “Yeah,” he admitted, “this is better.”

They walked like that the rest of the way, close together, their arms around each other. By the time they reached the house, Nick was exhausted. He collapsed onto the bed in his room as soon as they walked in and lay there, while Claire walked back and forth through the room, changing out of her dress and into an old t-shirt and cotton pajama shorts, washing the makeup off her face, and trading her fancy up-do for a messy ponytail.

“I have mosquito bites, look,” she said when she emerged from the bathroom, climbing onto the bed beside Nick. She held out her arm, and he could see several bites. “I think there’s some on my back too.”

“Aww… I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Not your fault. You didn’t bite me.”

Propping himself up on his elbows, Nick waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I could…” he said.

Claire gave him a look. “No thanks, Dracula. I’m gonna go get the Calamine lotion; you can put that on.” With an impish grin, she rolled off the bed and left the room. Rolling his eyes, Nick wearily sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. Standing up, he undressed quickly, changing into a worn t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. He was just pulling off his artificial leg when Claire came back, a large pink bottle of Calamine lotion in her hand. “How is everything?” she asked, as he bent over his stump, checking for blisters.

“Fine,” he replied; the skin was a little red, but not broken. Relieved, he turned down the covers on his side of the bed and scooted backwards until his back was pressed against the pillows. He pulled the top sheet and thin blanket over his lap and patted the empty space on the other side of the bed. “You comin’ in?”

“Of course.” Claire bounced onto the bed beside him and held out the bottle of Calamine and a handful of cotton balls. “Please?” she asked, sticking out her bottom lip pleadingly.

“What am I, your private nurse?” Nick asked with mock irritation, taking the supplies from her hands.

“No, you’re my boyfriend. Now get to it; they itch.” Shooting him a grin, she pulled her shirt over her head and turned so that her back was within his reach. He could see a few puffy white blotches dotting her skin in the places her dress had not covered. He tipped the bottle of Calamine against a cotton ball, saturating the cotton with pink lotion. Setting the bottle aside, he placed the cotton ball against a bite in the middle of her back. Claire shivered, her back and shoulders shuddering. “Cold!” she gasped.

“Sorry,” apologized Nick, lightly rubbing the cotton over her skin until the bite was covered with lotion. Then he sought out the next bite and continued. By the time he was done, she looked like a leopard, her back dotted with half dollar-sized pink circles. “Man, they really were trying to eat you alive,” he observed, raising his eyebrows at the sight.

“What can I say? No one can resist me.” She flashed him a cheeky smile over her shoulder.

He smiled back and put his hands on her shoulders, gently easing her back until she was resting against him. “I sure can’t,” he said, bringing his lips down to meet hers.

She ended the kiss giggling and rolled off of him. “I’m gonna grab another beer,” she said, getting up. “You want one?”

“Sure.”

She left the room and returned with two cans of beer. She handed him one as she climbed back onto the bed and settled herself by his side, her body leaning against his slightly. As they cracked open their drinks, Claire asked, “So, is there anything on TV?”

Nick swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I dunno, why don’t you turn it on and look?” he replied with a smirk.

“Why don’t you hand me the remote then?” she shot back, and he grudgingly picked up the TV remote from his night table and gave it to her. She turned on the TV and started flipping channels. There wasn’t much on, but finally they settled on the Sci-fi channel, which was playing some cheesy 70’s horror movie. They watched as they drank, laughing and making fun of it the whole time.

By the time the “climactic ending” was over, Nick had laughed so hard he was afraid all the pizza and beer in his stomach was going to come back up. But it felt good, laughing like that. He’d laughed a lot that night, more than he had in weeks, it seemed.

Tonight had been a good night. And forget the fancy French restaurant. This, he decided as he looked over at Claire, was the perfect way to spend their six-month anniversary. Just lying in bed together, laughing, enjoying each other’s presence. No need for flowers or expensive gifts; no need for classy, romantic nights out. He didn’t feel the need to impress her, and she didn’t need to be impressed. This was enough. This was perfect.

He felt her body shift against his, and he smiled unconsciously. He loved the feel of her up against him, the comfort she gave him just by being there. He’d been searching for this for so long, for a woman who could make him feel the way he did then, without saying a word. He thought back to what he’d told her earlier.

“I want to be with you… for a long time. I love you… like I’ve never loved anyone before… and I know that you love me too.”

“I do,” she whispered.

In that instant, he realized what he’d known for over a year. He’d found her. And he was never going to find another woman like her.

“Claire?”

She turned her head, looking up at him, her questioning eyes illuminated by the flickering light of the television. His mind raced, but not with thoughts he could comprehend. At that moment, all he could understand was the feeling burning deep down within him, warming him from the inside out. Love. It was love, love for the one person who made him feel complete, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He reached for her hand, tucking it within his own. The words had already formed on his tongue. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth and let them out.

“Marry me.”

***