It was just after nine, and already dark outside. Autumn had come quickly—it seemed like we’d barely had time to blink, and summer was over.
After the surgery, Maren had remained in Boston for several days, and she hardly left my side while I was in the hospital. We agreed to table any major decisions about moving until after I got stronger, but having something to work for motivated me to follow all instructions and recover as quickly as I could.
I moved in with Finn’s family for a month, and Maren visited every weekend. We all celebrated together when the biopsy results came back indicating the tumor was indeed benign. Subsequent scans showed that Dr. Acharya had been able to remove it all, and the seizures, headaches, and dizzying memories had ceased. Yes, I had a big bald patch and a bunch of staples holding my scalp together, and at first I couldn’t even take a shower without help, but that was all temporary. I felt unbelievably lucky and grateful.
When I felt strong enough to go home, I asked Maren again about moving to Portland. My feelings for her had only grown deeper and stronger, Finn and Bree adored her, and even my parents—when I finally felt well enough to handle a visit from them—fell under her spell. My mother started hinting around about grandchildren as soon as she saw how natural Maren was with my niece and nephew, and even though I rolled my eyes and shut her down, it was in the back of my mind too.
We talked about it a lot, and although she loved Detroit and had a really hard time moving away from her sisters, she wanted to be with me and was up for starting a life somewhere new. I fucking loved that about her. She sold her studio to one of her instructors in August, got out of her lease, and moved out here right away—without even seeing the house. I asked her if she wanted to visit first, but she said, “I trust you. If you say the house is perfect for us, it is.”
Waking up next to her every morning was better than a dream. She was patient and kind and forgiving, but she was tough on me too—she made sure I took all my medications, refused to let me skip checkups and therapy appointments when I tried to say I felt fine, and she calmed something in me that had been restless and unsettled without her in my life. She brought a sense of peace and clarity to my life that I’d never had before. And she made me excited about the future.
Together we’d decided to take Evan up on his offer to buy property adjacent to the ranch and build a home. All that would take a while, but she was as excited as I was about living in the country, working on a responsible, sustainable ranch (she and Evan were of similar minds on that), and teaching yoga and mindfulness as part of the youth program. In the meantime, I was back at the shop several days a week, and she was teaching yoga at a couple different studios. Life was good.
But I wanted more.
Every time I looked at the lotus necklace around her neck—which was often, since she rarely took it off—it gave me a thrill. I couldn’t imagine how happy I was going to be when I saw a ring on her finger.
Maren wasn’t the kind of girl who waxed poetic about big diamonds or poofy white dresses or having all eyes on her as she walked down the aisle, but I was hoping she wanted to be my wife as much as I wanted to be her husband. But I couldn’t just come right out and ask her—not my style at all, and I knew how much Maren loved a surprise.
So I’d concocted a little plan.
When I saw her coming down the street, I pushed the glass door open. A cool October breeze blew in with her, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and her lavender oil. “Hi, beautiful.”
Her face lit up. “Hi. How are you feeling?”
I kissed her lips. “Like a million bucks. You ready?”
“Yes! You’ve been promising me this tattoo forever. Since high school, I believe.”
“You’re right,” I said, letting the door close behind her. “Let’s do it.”
I took her over to my station and had her sit in the chair. “Okay, put your arm up here.”
She extended her left arm across the table, and I prepared her skin.
“Did you make the stencil?” she asked.
“Uh huh.” From my desk, I pulled out the stencil of the words she wanted inked on her forearm in script, going from her inner wrist toward her elbow.
I am not afraid of love.
I held it up. “Like this?”
She nodded happily. “Yes! I’m so excited.”
“Okay, close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want it to be a surprise.”
She giggled and gave me a strange look. “You’re goofy, but okay.”
Eyes closed, she leaned back in the chair and I silently pulled a second stencil and a ring box out from my desk. I set the box in my lap and carefully applied the secret words to her arm. My pulse was racing.
When I was finished, I lifted the paper and saw the words I’d temporarily transferred.
Will you marry me?
“Okay,” I said, closing my trembling hands around the ring box. “You can look.”
She opened her eyes and dropped her gaze to her arm. Her smile faded. Her mouth fell open. “Oh my God.” She stared at the words, almost like they didn’t make sense. “Is this—are you—?” She looked up at me, an astonished expression on her face. “Is this for real?”
I took the ring box from my lap, moved the table aside, and got down on one knee. Then I opened it.
She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as she stared at the ring.
“It’s real. And maybe it seems a little sudden, but I feel like I’ve spent my entire life waiting for you. I thought it was too late for us, but you’ve shown me that it’s never too late when you love someone the way I love you. Some things are just meant to be, some people are just meant to be together, and sometimes, love is forever.”
“Oh, Dallas,” she whispered, her eyes tearing up.
I took the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. “I never want to be without you, Maren. You make me a better man. Will you marry me?”
She nodded as the tears began to spill over.
“Is that yes?”
“Yes. Yes!” Laughter bubbled out of her, even as she wiped her eyes. “I can’t believe this.” She held out her left hand and stared at it. “Oh my God, it’s stunning. I’ve never seen one like it.”
“It was my grandmother’s,” I said quietly, my throat feeling a little tight. “My grandfather left it to me. It’s been in a safe deposit box at the bank for years. I never once thought I’d need it.”
Her eyes met mine. “Oh, honey. I love it.”
“Are you sure? I had it reset with a champagne sapphire because I know you like color, and the jeweler said that stone is perfect for rose gold. The little diamonds on the band are original to the ring—I liked that. But if it’s not what you want, I’ll get you a new one. I know it’s not very modern.”
She cradled her left hand against her chest as if I’d tried to take the ring from her finger. “You want this ring back, you’ll have to pry it off my cold, dead hand. It’s perfect. Perfect.”
“Good.”
She leaned forward, taking my face in her hands and pressing her lips to mine. “I’ve never been so happy in my entire life. My heart is going to burst right out of my chest.”
“Mine too.”
“So happy or so shocked!” She giggled and looked at her hand again. “I thought I was coming here for a tattoo!”
I laughed as I got to my feet. “You can still have your tattoo. I just couldn’t wait to see that ring on your finger. And you know I love to surprise you.”
She jumped off the chair and threw her arms around me, and I held her tight, lifting her right off her feet. “Never stop surprising me,” she whispered as she clung to me.
“Never,” I promised. I closed my eyes and breathed her in, feeling overwhelmed with love and luck and gratitude. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I’ve never been so thankful for that stupid brain tumor.”
She laughed as I set her down. “Thankful? Why?”
“Because it brought me back to you.” I cradled her beautiful face in my hands. “And it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
After the surgery, Maren had remained in Boston for several days, and she hardly left my side while I was in the hospital. We agreed to table any major decisions about moving until after I got stronger, but having something to work for motivated me to follow all instructions and recover as quickly as I could.
I moved in with Finn’s family for a month, and Maren visited every weekend. We all celebrated together when the biopsy results came back indicating the tumor was indeed benign. Subsequent scans showed that Dr. Acharya had been able to remove it all, and the seizures, headaches, and dizzying memories had ceased. Yes, I had a big bald patch and a bunch of staples holding my scalp together, and at first I couldn’t even take a shower without help, but that was all temporary. I felt unbelievably lucky and grateful.
When I felt strong enough to go home, I asked Maren again about moving to Portland. My feelings for her had only grown deeper and stronger, Finn and Bree adored her, and even my parents—when I finally felt well enough to handle a visit from them—fell under her spell. My mother started hinting around about grandchildren as soon as she saw how natural Maren was with my niece and nephew, and even though I rolled my eyes and shut her down, it was in the back of my mind too.
We talked about it a lot, and although she loved Detroit and had a really hard time moving away from her sisters, she wanted to be with me and was up for starting a life somewhere new. I fucking loved that about her. She sold her studio to one of her instructors in August, got out of her lease, and moved out here right away—without even seeing the house. I asked her if she wanted to visit first, but she said, “I trust you. If you say the house is perfect for us, it is.”
Waking up next to her every morning was better than a dream. She was patient and kind and forgiving, but she was tough on me too—she made sure I took all my medications, refused to let me skip checkups and therapy appointments when I tried to say I felt fine, and she calmed something in me that had been restless and unsettled without her in my life. She brought a sense of peace and clarity to my life that I’d never had before. And she made me excited about the future.
Together we’d decided to take Evan up on his offer to buy property adjacent to the ranch and build a home. All that would take a while, but she was as excited as I was about living in the country, working on a responsible, sustainable ranch (she and Evan were of similar minds on that), and teaching yoga and mindfulness as part of the youth program. In the meantime, I was back at the shop several days a week, and she was teaching yoga at a couple different studios. Life was good.
But I wanted more.
Every time I looked at the lotus necklace around her neck—which was often, since she rarely took it off—it gave me a thrill. I couldn’t imagine how happy I was going to be when I saw a ring on her finger.
Maren wasn’t the kind of girl who waxed poetic about big diamonds or poofy white dresses or having all eyes on her as she walked down the aisle, but I was hoping she wanted to be my wife as much as I wanted to be her husband. But I couldn’t just come right out and ask her—not my style at all, and I knew how much Maren loved a surprise.
So I’d concocted a little plan.
When I saw her coming down the street, I pushed the glass door open. A cool October breeze blew in with her, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and her lavender oil. “Hi, beautiful.”
Her face lit up. “Hi. How are you feeling?”
I kissed her lips. “Like a million bucks. You ready?”
“Yes! You’ve been promising me this tattoo forever. Since high school, I believe.”
“You’re right,” I said, letting the door close behind her. “Let’s do it.”
I took her over to my station and had her sit in the chair. “Okay, put your arm up here.”
She extended her left arm across the table, and I prepared her skin.
“Did you make the stencil?” she asked.
“Uh huh.” From my desk, I pulled out the stencil of the words she wanted inked on her forearm in script, going from her inner wrist toward her elbow.
I am not afraid of love.
I held it up. “Like this?”
She nodded happily. “Yes! I’m so excited.”
“Okay, close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want it to be a surprise.”
She giggled and gave me a strange look. “You’re goofy, but okay.”
Eyes closed, she leaned back in the chair and I silently pulled a second stencil and a ring box out from my desk. I set the box in my lap and carefully applied the secret words to her arm. My pulse was racing.
When I was finished, I lifted the paper and saw the words I’d temporarily transferred.
Will you marry me?
“Okay,” I said, closing my trembling hands around the ring box. “You can look.”
She opened her eyes and dropped her gaze to her arm. Her smile faded. Her mouth fell open. “Oh my God.” She stared at the words, almost like they didn’t make sense. “Is this—are you—?” She looked up at me, an astonished expression on her face. “Is this for real?”
I took the ring box from my lap, moved the table aside, and got down on one knee. Then I opened it.
She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as she stared at the ring.
“It’s real. And maybe it seems a little sudden, but I feel like I’ve spent my entire life waiting for you. I thought it was too late for us, but you’ve shown me that it’s never too late when you love someone the way I love you. Some things are just meant to be, some people are just meant to be together, and sometimes, love is forever.”
“Oh, Dallas,” she whispered, her eyes tearing up.
I took the ring from the box and slipped it on her finger. “I never want to be without you, Maren. You make me a better man. Will you marry me?”
She nodded as the tears began to spill over.
“Is that yes?”
“Yes. Yes!” Laughter bubbled out of her, even as she wiped her eyes. “I can’t believe this.” She held out her left hand and stared at it. “Oh my God, it’s stunning. I’ve never seen one like it.”
“It was my grandmother’s,” I said quietly, my throat feeling a little tight. “My grandfather left it to me. It’s been in a safe deposit box at the bank for years. I never once thought I’d need it.”
Her eyes met mine. “Oh, honey. I love it.”
“Are you sure? I had it reset with a champagne sapphire because I know you like color, and the jeweler said that stone is perfect for rose gold. The little diamonds on the band are original to the ring—I liked that. But if it’s not what you want, I’ll get you a new one. I know it’s not very modern.”
She cradled her left hand against her chest as if I’d tried to take the ring from her finger. “You want this ring back, you’ll have to pry it off my cold, dead hand. It’s perfect. Perfect.”
“Good.”
She leaned forward, taking my face in her hands and pressing her lips to mine. “I’ve never been so happy in my entire life. My heart is going to burst right out of my chest.”
“Mine too.”
“So happy or so shocked!” She giggled and looked at her hand again. “I thought I was coming here for a tattoo!”
I laughed as I got to my feet. “You can still have your tattoo. I just couldn’t wait to see that ring on your finger. And you know I love to surprise you.”
She jumped off the chair and threw her arms around me, and I held her tight, lifting her right off her feet. “Never stop surprising me,” she whispered as she clung to me.
“Never,” I promised. I closed my eyes and breathed her in, feeling overwhelmed with love and luck and gratitude. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I’ve never been so thankful for that stupid brain tumor.”
She laughed as I set her down. “Thankful? Why?”
“Because it brought me back to you.” I cradled her beautiful face in my hands. “And it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
