Not in love

“Then move away from that precipice, please.”

I took a step forward, and then we were there. He’d asked the question. I’d heard and understood it. And all that was missing was my answer.

“It’s fine, if you’re not ready. This is not an ultimatum.” His eyes and voice and smile were soft. He didn’t sound nervous, or scared, and I thought that this man—he knew what was in my heart just as well as I did. “I’ve been feeling like asking for a while, so I did. But I can check back in a few months.”

“Don’t.”

“No checking back?”

I shook my head. “Don’t bother, there’s no point. My mind is made up, and I won’t change it.”

It was a cheap trick, and someone else would have fallen for it. But Eli—Eli understood my words for what they were, and he smiled, took my hand, slid the ring on my finger. He didn’t stand, and instead buried his face against my stomach, nuzzling into me.

I ran my hand through his hair, glanced at the trees, smelled the earth, and said, “I was so wrong.”

“About what?” he asked against my shirt. It meant that he probably couldn’t see my smile, and wasn’t that too bad?

“About whether my story could ever be happy.”