56. Ryan

Chapter 56

Ryan

It’s been six weeks since our third date, and in that time I’ve set up a home studio in Kayla’s spare bedroom, moved all my stuff out of the chalet, and we've flown back to Edinburgh for Allie and Mel’s wedding.

Spending more time with Kayla’s friends was a blast, and I can’t wait for them to come and visit us again.

Work has been just as busy as it was in L.A., but now when I clock off I get to curl up on the sofa with my girl instead of waiting hours to call her when she wakes up.

We’ve taken some time off for Christmas, and so far spent the holiday between our apartment and our parents’ chalets. It’s been so nice to catch up with them, Hannah, and Cameron, and I can’t believe how much has changed since he and I flew out here last year. Absolutely nobody was surprised when Kayla and I told them we finally got our shit together.

Some nights her parents join us, others we all go to theirs, but with eight people around the table for dinner and card games, it feels like everyone is exactly where they’re supposed to be.

This isn’t our first Christmas together, but it is our first as a couple, and I’m keen to combine some of our old traditions with new ones. We’ve enjoyed French onion soup at The Marmot on more than one occasion, but we also decided to get new tattoos instead of gifts. Our thighs now sport matching North stars, high up on the inside. The design was my idea, the location was hers. A place only we would ever get to see.

Now it’s time for our annual Christmas Day ski race, and we’ve paused at the top of our favourite mountain to take in the view and reflect on everything that’s happened since last winter.

The skies are blue after a week of heavy snow, and I still need to pinch myself sometimes and remember this is my life now. Here, with her, I haven’t missed my old life once. Well, maybe good Mexican food, but we make up for it with endless bread, cheese, and charcuterie.

“We haven’t made a wishlist in a while,” she says, leaning back against my chest.

I’ve been wondering when this might come up. Now we have all winter together, there’s no rush to try new stuff in the bedroom, but it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped thinking about things I want to do with her.

“I have a few things in mind,” I tell her, and she tips her head against my shoulder, basking in the warm sun.

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten me.”

I drop my mouth to her ear and speak slowly, so there’s no mistaking my words. “I want a wife, and a dog, and some babies.”

Kayla stiffens in my arms, and I take a step back, dropping to one knee as she spins around.

We’ve seen a few proposals on the mountain so far this winter, and she's always so happy to see people experience that special moment here. Though I’d love to do it somewhere a little more secluded, I think I’ve known for years my life was going to lead me to this place, to this moment, with her.

“Are you serious?” she gasps, bursting into tears when I produce a vintage ring box from the inside of my ski jacket .

“Kayla McInnes, there’s no better view than you. No mountain I wouldn’t move to make you happy. No world I wouldn’t try to find you in if I even remotely understood the science behind many worlds theory. And clearly no cheesy metaphor I wouldn’t try to wrangle into a proposal if it helped me convince you.”

From the corner of my eye, I spot the photographer I’ve hired to take photos of this moment, as well as a few tourists who’ve whipped their phones out. I’m not normally a self-conscious guy, but until I have an answer, I don’t think I can breathe.

“Will you marry me, Bunny?”

“Yes,” she cries out, almost toppling me to the ground when she crashes into my arms. “I was going to say I think we should get a butt-plug.”

Kayla is the one thing I know to be true, my solid ground, and still she finds ways to surprise me. She laughs through her happy tears, covering her mouth and looking around to make sure nobody heard her.

I slip the ring onto her finger, and she holds it up to watch it sparkle in the sun. The simple band topped with an emerald nestled between two diamonds has been cleaned and polished, but there was no time to figure out her ring size and get it resized. Thankfully, it fits perfectly.

“This is so beautiful, Ryan. I feel like I've seen it before somewhere.”

“It was your grandmother’s,” I tell her, falling for her even more when her bottom lip wobbles. “She gave it to your dad before she died, apparently with an order that he could only ever give it to me.”

“My dad gave this to you?”

“I know it’s outdated, but I asked for his permission the night they got here, and he gave the ring box to me yesterday. I was planning to ask you at the New Year's fireworks display, but I couldn’t wait a second longer.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not, and I have something else for you, too.”

Crouching down, I unzip my backpack, digging into the compartment at the back for the stack of papers tied with a bright red ribbon.

“What are these?” she asks, pulling at one loose end.

“That’s every postcard you told me not to send.” Months of them, double what I’d already mailed her.

“You still wrote them?”

“Sure did. Right up to…” I pull the bottom one out of the stack. “This one. I wrote it this morning while you were in the shower.”

Watching her face light up when she reads it is the best Christmas gift of all.