Chương 15
Daniel smiled faintly.
“What do you think?”
“I’m asking you.”
“It meant you were putting the ring in the wrong place.”
“Daniel.”
“And it meant you were my wife in my head already.”
Emily looked at him.
He continued, “Not legally. Not because of the ceremony. Because I’d already decided that was the life I wanted.”
Her eyes closed.
“That sounds contradictory.”
“It was a brain injury. I wasn’t at my best.”
She laughed.
He did too.
Then Daniel looked at her.
“I didn’t want to lose you. I also didn’t want you to marry me while I couldn’t stand up and tell you yes.”
Emily nodded slowly.
Both.
Again.
Always both.
She looked at the ring on the table.
“So what now?”
Daniel took a breath.
“Now I ask when I’m actually awake.”
Emily’s heart stopped.
Daniel shook his head quickly.
“Not tonight.”
She stared.
He smiled nervously.
“I just discovered this conversation ten minutes ago. Give me some credit.”
“You’re awful.”
“I’m recovering.”
She laughed and cried at the same time.
Daniel moved closer.
“Can I hold you?”
She nodded.
He wrapped his arms around her.
For a long time, neither said anything.
Four weeks later, Daniel called Father Michael without telling Emily.
He did not ask to book the chapel.
He asked to talk.
They met at a coffee shop near the church.
Daniel arrived early.
Father Michael arrived six minutes late and blamed parking.
Daniel liked him more for that.
They spoke for almost two hours.
About the first wedding.
About memory.
About whether vows mattered if the person making them had already lived the commitment badly sometimes.
About fear.
About Daniel’s old tendency to treat decisions as permanent only after he had made them privately.
Father Michael listened.
Then he asked, “What are you afraid Emily will say?”
Daniel looked at his coffee.
“No.”
“That seems straightforward.”
“Thank you.”
“Why would she?”
“Because I’m not the man she agreed to marry.”
Father Michael leaned back.
“Are you?”
Daniel looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
“That is also straightforward.”
“She loved him.”
“She loves you.”
“Maybe because she’s good at continuity.”
Father Michael smiled.
“Emily is many things. Sentimental archivist is not high on the list.”
Daniel laughed.
Then he became quiet.
“I remember more now.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“That sounds suspiciously vague.”
“I remember the proposal. I remember the fight when she left. I remember my father. I remember wanting the promotion. I remember the wedding morning.”
“And the chapel?”
“Pieces.”
Father Michael waited.
Daniel rubbed his thumb over the rim of the cup.
“I remember thinking I had already ruined her wedding.”
“You were unconscious.”
“I’m aware.”
“You were hit by a truck.”
“Also aware.”
“Then your sense of personal responsibility remains medically impressive.”
Daniel smiled.
Father Michael continued, “You’re not asking whether you remember enough to marry Emily.”
Daniel looked at him.
“What am I asking?”
“Whether you deserve to.”
Daniel did not answer.
Father Michael drank his coffee.
“Those are different problems.”
In April, Daniel asked Emily to meet him at the river.
She knew immediately.
Not because he was subtle.
Because he was terrible at subtlety.
He texted at 9:14 a.m.:
Can you meet me by the river at six?
Emily replied:
Why?
Daniel:
Because rivers are available.
Emily stared at the phone.
Then:
Are you proposing?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Returned.
Daniel:
This is why planning things for you is unpleasant.
She laughed so loudly Luis looked over the office divider.
At six, Emily walked toward the river wearing sneakers.
Daniel stood near the same railing where he had proposed the first time.
He was holding no flowers.
No photographer hid nearby.
No family waited.
Good.
Emily stopped in front of him.
“You look terrified.”
“I am.”
“Encouraging.”
Daniel reached into his coat pocket.
Then stopped.
“I had a speech.”
“No.”
“I know.”
“Burn it.”
“It was on my phone.”
“Delete it.”
He laughed.
Then his eyes became serious.
“I remember choosing you before.”
Emily said nothing.
“I also remember taking you for granted. Not constantly. Enough.”
She watched him.
“I remember almost losing you before the accident because I thought love meant you would still be there after I finished whatever I thought was more urgent.”
Emily swallowed.
Daniel continued, “Then I almost died. And you stayed.”
“Daniel.”
“I know. That isn’t why you have to marry me.”
“Good.”
“I’m getting there.”
She smiled.
He pulled the ring from his pocket.
“I don’t want our first vows to be something you said while I couldn’t answer.”
Emily’s eyes filled.
Daniel looked down at the ring.
“I don’t want to become the man I was because you loved him. I don’t want to reject him either just because he made mistakes.”
His voice shook slightly.
“I want to keep choosing.”
Emily covered her mouth.
Daniel looked at her.
“That’s the speech. Sorry.”
“It was tolerable.”
“Great.”
He did not kneel.
His balance was still imperfect when tired, and neither of them needed symbolism badly enough to require an orthopedic incident.
He simply held the ring between them.
“Emily Carter, do you want to marry me?”
She looked at him.
Not the hospital bed.
Not the man before the crash.
Not the man she had feared losing.
This one.
The one standing in front of her with a scar near his temple and a job he had not planned and memories that returned when they pleased.
The one who sometimes forgot appointments and sometimes remembered the exact words of an argument from three years earlier.
The one who had learned to ask for help and still hated doing it.
The one she had learned to love without pretending love restored what had been lost.
“Yes.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
“You sure?”
Emily laughed.
“Don’t ruin it.”
“I had to ask.”
“Yes.”
He slid the ring onto her left hand.
It fit.
She looked at him.
“Your turn.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
May you like
“This was my proposal.”
She took his ring from her coat pocket.
