Page 98 of In Every Lifetime
It was a joke; I didn’t believe he had kept it on him this entire time. But he nodded, looking completely serious.
“It’s always with me.”
I stared at him in surprise. “Why?”
He shrugged. “It’s like you said… it felt wrong to be without it.”
Of course he'd always had it on him. The damned fool had only divorced me to protect me. It was idiotic, but it was exactly him—sacrificing himself, letting himself be hurt for those he loved. And I was at the top of that list. The one he loved most.
“Fai?” I asked, looking up at him and holding out my hand, returning the ring to him.
“Yeah?”
“Marry me.”
I didn’t ask. It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.
His eyes went wide as he looked between the ring and me. “Sarah… you don’t mean that.”
I shook my head. “I do mean it. We shouldn’t have divorced in the first place. It was necessary at the time—I know that—but I want to be married to you again. I want to be your wife.”
“What if I relapse again?” he asked, hesitant. “I can’t hurt you again. I refuse to.”
I grasped his hand in mine. “Fai… do you want to marry me?”
“Obviously,” he answered immediately, “but that doesn’t mean–”
“Nope.” I cut him off. “It means we’re getting remarried.” I placed his ring back onto his finger.
He stared at it for a moment before finally returning mine, sliding it back onto my finger… back where it belonged.
“You really mean this?” His voice was barely above a whisper, full of hope and wonder.
I smiled, framing his face in my hands. His hands settled at my waist, pulling me closer until our chests pressed together.
“With everything I am. I love you, Fai.”
He searched my eyes for a moment, as if trying to confirm it was true. Then he smiled wide and pulled me into a kiss—his whole body, his whole soul in it—showing me that he loved me. That he had always loved me. That he always would.
He wasn’t perfect. Neither was I.
He had hurt me. And I had hurt him, too.
We weren’t perfect, but we were perfect together.
Perfectly imperfect.
