History Doesn't Repeat Itself

Chapter 27

GALE

A month. That's all I needed to redeem myself and forgive myself for everything I did. . . well. . . I thought I did. After Christy had told me everything that had happened, how she explained everything that WASN'T my fault through a badly designed Powerpoint presentation that I didn't have the heart to critique, I finally let go of the past.

Throughout the whole month, I had to constantly remind myself that I was Lev now. I was the man that Christy loves. The man who can show his love to his future wife. . . Not that I have proposed yet. But it won't be long until I do.

One month. That's how long it took me to finally gather up the courage to let everything go, and start from where I left off.

Before the accident, I had promised myself that I would ask her to marry me. To kneel down on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of her happy days with me. But that hadn't been successful. But now, now that I have forgiven myself, and now that the car that I was driving was double-, no, triple-checked for possible hazards, I finally had the courage to ask her the question that has been waiting patiently inside my mind.

"Lev! You ready yet?" Christy shouts from outside.

I rustle through my hair and subconsciously spray myself with the-almost finished-lavender perfume.

"Be there in a sec!"

I open the door and walk to Christy, giving her a peck on the lips and opening the door for her.

A date after another, and another after that. That's what happened in the course of the month that we spent together. And I smile at that.

"You smell nervous. Are you alright?" She says, making me turn to her. "Lev?"

With a shake of my head, I laugh. "I'm not. Don't worry, bub."

She places her hand on mine and giggles. "Where are we going?"

I grin and I hide the excitement. "You'll see."

The sky was dark, and the pathway was dim. The evenly spaces streetlights shone over Christy's beautiful face and I couldn't help but stare at her while we were walking.

"You're beautiful, bub." It slipped out. Whoops.

"Tell me something I don't know." She says with a smug face.

This is it. This is the moment that I had been hoping for. Passing by the park where we had our first date, I walk her to the bench where we had our first kiss. The 29th walk we had. Though I never understood why she liked walking in the scorching weather of San Francisco, I never once declined her request.

The first date we ever had, God, that was fucking awesome, The first formal date we ever had happened here. She asked me out first when I never had the courage to.

The first time she moved her hands and tangled her fingers with mine. I never got the chance to tell her how much I loved her before she first laid her lips on mine while I was standing up from tying my shoes. I remember all the dates we had after that and after the accident. All those pieces of the past has led us here, and I have to take it all one step at a time.

"Why is the kitchen in the house so big?" She asks, breaking the silence with a conversation starter. "I never got the chance to ask you."

I shrug. "I like to cook as much as you do."

She says "Woah." with wonder. And that makes me smile.

I give her another peck on the lips. "Do you remember this park?" I say. "This was when I first kissed you."