Page 91 of Fall onto me

Foster throws his arms around me, my back against his chest as we stare at the foundation of our future. “I figured, a three-bedroom home would be perfect for us. One will be ours, another for guests, and an office.”

I grab his wrist, pulling his hand down. “We’re going to need just one more bedroom.”

He whirls me around, placing his inked hand back on my stomach. “You’re pregnant?”

I nod as a tear falls down his cheek, he picks me up and sweeps me around. His guitar nearly whacking me in the face. But I don’t say anything because I’ve never seen him so endlessly happy before.

He gently sets me down, checking me over. This was the only thing I was worried about with telling him I was pregnant; he’s going to panic. “We were on a motorcycle!” He sighs, “Oh my God and I just shook you around.”

I cup his face in my hands, “I’m not made of glass, baby.”

“I’m going to have Jack’s on speed dial. We need to break ground on this even sooner, I want you comfortable.” He takes in a deep breath, looking around. “I hope this is good, I know the tree brought us pain, but I figured pain builds character and we can turn the foundation of our lives…”

I cut him off, placing my hand to his chest. “Foster.” I breathe. “That tree, it signifies some horrible, terrible things but it also showcases where we always find each other.” I look at the square, “This is our spot, it was our home when it was just bare sand and ocean breeze.”

“Now, it’s ours forever.”

He dips down on one knee, but instead of pulling out a ring, he swings his guitar in front of him and begins to sing the song he wrote for me months ago.

My Ballerina (Listen here)

She’s like the rain on a lazy Sunday,

while I’m sleet and ice and snow.

She’s a quiet drive on a Wednesday,

and I’m hell on wheels.

She’s poised, perfect, and patient,

while I can’t even pretend.

My Ballerina

Spinning through my life

I try to let her run free

Like a butterfly

But I’m holding her down and she doesn’t know just how much she can fly.

She needs to pack up and fly, out of my life, like a ghost in the night.

I bring nothing but trouble and dark days…

A constant waste of time.

I drain, and drain, and drain you.

And you do nothing but drive right into my soul.

My shadow that will follow me into the darkest side.

My ballerina.

I’m a cryingmess by the time he finishes our song, and before I can compose myself, he turns the guitar upside down and shakes it.

A box falls onto the dock, he scrambles for it and sets his beloved instrument beside us. “This was my mother’s,” he smiles nervously, opening the small velvet box and revealing a beautiful white-gold ring. “She would have loved you so much, Sky. I know you just changed your last name to Paine for your dad, but I’ll need you to change it again, to Jennings, if you’d like. Will you marry me, Shadow?”

“For you?” I smile. “Yes, Yes, Yes!”

He slips the sparkling ring onto my finger and looks up at me with thick lashes, with those midnight eyes that match the starry skies that are now coming out to twinkle and blanket the world in their shimmer. “Your chaos is mine, Skyler. We will weather every storm that comes our way, together, for the rest of our lives.” He places his hand on my stomach. “And what could have been is now what will be.”

the end