His thoughts scattered in a million directions and then, within seconds, things fit into place. Stella thinking that she would die soon explained why she acted the way she did. It wasn’t her leaving, it was her attempting to protect him in her own fucked up way. He walked into the room they were sharing and grabbed the grey box he’d had in his pocket for three weeks. He’d made such careful plans for tonight, but this felt right.
Now.
He walked back onto the porch. She hadn’t moved and a tear had seared down her cheek. He stood there, taking in her messy black waves and fresh face. This was the way he wanted her, just out of his bed, all the time. He couldn’t relate to the Stella Murphy that everyone saw on TV in press conferences. That woman was poised and perfect, wearing couture clothes perfectly planned and appropriate for every event. The El he loved was fucking flawed and she owned it. She didn’t need makeup or even underwear and was surly on a whim. She wore her pain like a badge. She was his Love and his heart. What he’d been seeing of her lately was something fake and foreign and nothing he could identify with.
He cleared his throat and stood directly in front of her. “So, that was pretty fucking heavy for two o’clock in the afternoon. So I’ll see your forever and raise you.” He got down on one knee and held out the 15 carat emerald he’d bought for her. It was surrounded by diamonds and he knew she’d love it the minute he saw it. “You are the most complicated, challenging, baffling person I’ve ever come into contact with, let alone love with all my heart. I’ve had this ring for about a year, because I knew we’d get married. I don’t want forever without you. I want your forever. I hear you and understand what you’re telling me. What I want you to know is that as long as you’re here, you’re mine and I’m yours. Stop being scared about you and me. You aren’t scared about anything else.”
A small sound escaped her throat and it made his heart hurt.
“I need you to marry me,” he said again, still holding the box out to her, his hand barely trembling.
“George,” she whispered, her voice full of longing.
“Stop thinking and let me love you. I don’t need you protecting me; I need to know you aren’t going anywhere and you want to be with me as long as you’re here.”
Stella nodded her head and a grin spread across her gorgeous lips. He slipped the ring on her finger, covering the tattoo he loved. He picked her up, which caused her mug to fall from her lap and break on the ground, but he didn’t care, the pieces and blankets abandoned as he carried her into the bedroom.
She took her clothes off and donned the St. Regis robe the spa had provided. Stella walked to the front of the spa and smiled.
The hostess smiled back. “Mrs. Finnegan, please follow me.”
Stella didn’t correct her and followed her into a lounge where everything was beige and plush. White flowers decorated the lounge, food and tea adorned the perimeter of the room. The hostess showed Stella through the lounge into another room that was lit solely by the fireplace.
“Mrs. Finnegan, please sit down and I’ll hook you up to our oxygen machines.”
Oxygen?
Stella hadn’t had any real altitude issues while in Aspen, even though she’d been short of breath. An oxygen machine wasn’t on her radar as part of a spa day.
She plopped down on a chaise lounge chair and smiled to herself at the audacity of the situation; being engaged and getting oxygen before her massage at the St. Regis spa in Aspen. She didn’t belong here, but George made the reservation for her to get a massage and she wouldn’t turn that down. The hostess put the oxygen tube under her nose and offered her champagne.
Fuck yeah.
This is the life. Stella could get used to this. She closed her eyes and pretended she belonged here and let the joy of her engagement permeate her body.
Mrs. Finnegan. Stella Murphy Finnegan. Begin again. She always loved that song.
Stella and George’s trip was romantic and peaceful and exactly what she needed. They didn’t ski. To be honest, she was a little afraid of skiing. The altitude sort of kicked her ass and she had to be careful with how much she drank. She just wanted to stay in the bed, so that’s what they did, only venturing out on the porch or for food. They felt inconspicuous in Aspen, like no one knew who they were.
Their last night there, they sat on a couch outside of a bar, huge heat lamps making it comfortable even in late November. They were drinking wine and lamenting the end of their vacation when Stella’s phone dinged a vox from Millie.
“Magic Box, this is Lunch Box. I know you didn’t get fucking engaged and not tell me. You two are trending on Twitter. Hoping it’s a rumor; I don’t believe half the shit I see on there because of you, but let me know.”
Stella looked at George. “I guess we haven’t been as off the radar as we thought.” She shrugged. George’s dimples had been constant since she told him she’d marry him. She was ecstatic she was the one that brought out those dimples. She pulled up her phone and looked through Twitter.
#holymotherofrockonfbibeauty
#bartenderproposedaspen
#fbibeautyoffmarket
#georgeputaringonit
“I don’t mind trending on Twitter for this,” Stella admitted. This wouldn’t ruin her bliss. She wanted to tell her friends first, but she’d rather tell them tomorrow in person when she got back to DC. Then a thought crossed her mind. “Oh God! I have to tell my parents.”
George took a sip of wine and grinned. His green wool cap was pulled down low on his head; it made his green flecks stand out. His cheeks were red from the cold.
“Wait. Did you ask my dad? I know that’s sort of old school, but did you? Because he’ll be pissed if you didn’t.” Stella was talking a mile a minute.
“I did.” His eyes lit up with his confession.
“Wait. You did!” Stella tapped her dad’s face on her phone and looked at George. “You’re perfect. What’s wrong with you?”
“Dad! Hey! Is Mom around too? I have some news.” Her voice sounded so giddy she hardly even recognized herself.
Stella had gone to work the Monday after Thanksgiving straight from Aspen and spent all day playing catch up and trying to get a grasp of the busy schedule ahead of her. She felt rejuvenated and couldn’t wait to tell her friends the details about her engagement. Her entire office was abuzz about the news. Greg had called her to confirm whether the rumors were true, but she told him to put everyone off until she had a chance to tell her loved ones. He said he would issue a statement in a few days.
She walked into Billy’s house and Cooper came running and almost knocked her down with his body. Stella leaned down and hugged him and whispered in his ear, “I missed you too, Coop.” She smiled and rubbed him all over, scratching his belly where she knew he loved it.
Then it was Millie’s turn to come running and almost knock her down. Millie grabbed her left hand and screamed. She started jumping up and down and Stella joined in, feeling like a complete idiot. Sure, she was excited, but she wasn’t the squealing girl Millie was about these sorts of things.
“Wait, you are engaged, right? I mean, it’s not a diamond,” Millie clarified, “but this is totally you.”
Stella laughed. “Yes, we’re engaged.”
Millie began jumping up and down again. Patrick came into the kitchen from the porch and Millie pulled Stella towards him.
“Look! Look!” Millie held out El’s left hand.
Patrick looked at it, puzzled at first. Stella thought she saw a flash of something in his eyes, annoyance maybe, then a smile spread slowly across his face.
“George and El are engaged!!!” Millie squealed.
Stella shrugged and grinned like an idiot.
“I thought engagement rings were diamonds?” Patrick asked.
Millie stopped jumping, the delight falling from her face. “Patrick!” she scolded. “First you say congratulations, then you ask dumbass questions.”
“Congratulations,” Patrick mimicked.
The front door opened and Billy walked in with two cases of Yuengling. “What’s up?” he asked when he got into the kitchen.
“I’m engaged!” Stella announced.
“What?!” Billy’s smile was genuine; he set the beer on the floor and pulled her into a bear hug. “That’s a fucking big ass ring, El. I hope you’ve been lifting enough weights to carry it around,” he mocked, trying to lift her left hand and straining to get it up.
Stella’s laugh cut through the room, which caused Millie and Patrick to start laughing too. “I know, it’s kind of obnoxious. I hope I don’t lose it. You guys know how I am.” Stella pulled her bag through the kitchen. “I’m going to drop this stuff downstairs and then we can all toast my good fortune. Can you believe someone’s crazy enough to love my ass?” she asked, pausing to look between her three ex-roommates. “I can stay, right?”
“Of course!” Millie called.
Stella twisted the ring around her finger; it was so big it covered most of her tattoo. She lay on the bed and Cooper jumped up and eased on top of her, pinning her down to the bed and licking her face.
“I love you too, Cooper,” she told him in between licks.
Stella stretched her entire body before opening her eyes. She was back in her old house; they’d eaten dinner together last night and drank way too much. It was like old times. Cooper climbed up her body and laid on top of her, licking her face in his version of a wakeup call.
“Ugh, stop.” Stella swatted at Cooper. “Your breath stinks.” She wiped her face with the sheet. “That’s so gross. I only let you do that yesterday because I’d been gone. Don’t get used to it.”
Cooper jumped off the bed and ran upstairs toward the back door. Stella straightened her tank top and followed him. When she opened the door, she was greeted with a foot of freshly fallen snow. It was an early snowstorm, and there were reports DC may get more snow today, which sent the masses to grocery stores to buy every last gallon of milk and loaf of bread.
Damn, I’ll have to dig my car out
. Cooper walked out onto the covered section of the porch gingerly and then jumped into the snow and disappeared as he hopped his way to the back of the fenced-in yard. Patrick opened his bedroom door and walked, shirtless, to the coffee maker. She was pretty sure his eyes were still closed.
“So, we’re snowed in?” she asked, looking at the tiger tattooed on Patrick’s back.
“Fucking great,” he said, adding coffee and water to the coffee maker.
“Well, at least we don’t have to go to work hungover,” she shrugged.
“Have you turned on the TV?” he asked, pushing the on button, not looking at her.
“Not yet, but you know DC shuts down at like, six inches of snow, and it’s more than that because Cooper disappeared in the backyard.”
Patrick laughed.
“So, what’s up with you?” Stella asked, leaning against the counter next to him. “You were quiet last night.”
“Nothing. Just got a lot going on, you know?” He pulled down mugs from the cabinet.
Stella didn’t know if he was referring to their plan or something else. “You okay?”
“Sure.” He leaned his hip against the counter.