For you| Pedro Pascal

26. Not earrings.

I'm pacing back and forth in my apartment. How I could I leave without saying it. I need you. That was all I needed to say. I'm pathetic. Absolutely stubborn and pathetic. I sit down on the couch and start tapping my foot. I need to tell him. After hours of debating, I get up and slip my shoes on and grab my purse. This time, I drive to him. As fast as I can, I drive to him. I parked in one of the empty spaces and ran to the door. Okay, more like a jog with a purpose. I rushed up the stairs, impatient to wait for the elevator and I'm at his door a few minutes later.

"Oh god. I'm crazy! I've gone crazy," I say to myself, pacing back and forth. Before I work up to knocking on the door, it opens. "Andy," Pedro says. He has a coat on, like he was on his way out. "I was on my way to see you. How long have..." I don't let him finish. I grab his neck and pull it towards me. His lips work with mine and we push back into his apartment. I kick the door shut, him twisting the deadbolt behind me. I start kicking my shoes off and pull his coat off. I kick my shoes off as he holds the small of my back, lifting me up and my legs wrapping around his waist. He walks us back to the bedroom, leaning my onto the bed. He pulls my pants off and I pull his shirt off. God he looked amazing. He tugs my shirt off in between breathes and I feel him leaning over me, adjusting himself in me. He pauses though and pushed me slightly back, just enough for me to see his entire face. "Shouldn't we talk about this first?" He asks, nervously laughing. "Yeah, shh." I don't let him get another word in.
***
"So," I say, starring up at the ceiling. "So." That's all he says. We stay quiet for was feels like an eternity. I sigh. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?" He says. I laugh. "P, you haven't said anything. Let alone, have done something wrong," I say. His head remains up at the ceiling. I search for his hand in the sheets. "I'm sorry," we both say in unison. Without looking at me, he says, "I know." I nod, then "Me too." I think long and hard about my choice of words. But my mind is blank. I look at him and he's already looking back at me. "What are tou sorry for?" I ask him softly. He's smiles. "Everything. You?" I smile back. "Everything."

We talked for hours. We talked about everything. We talked about what happened to me at the bar. We talked about the baby. We talked about work. We talked about us. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, I was at peace. Peace with everything that had happened to us. We agreed that some therapy is needed for both of us as well as boundaries. We agreed that our story is far from perfect, but it's where we were meant to be. He cleared up everything that happened while we were separated. I cleared up everything that happened with Max. Honestly, I was relieved to know that none of us had actually ever moved on.
"You're my person," I told him. "You're my best friend Andy. I wish things happened differently, but I also think things have a way of working themselves out." A tear slides down my cheek, emotions taking over. His hand glides down my face to wipe the tear away. "I don't think either of us handled anything the way we were supposed to. But my god Andy, I think we are going to grow into being better partners to each other. If that's even still on the table. I want you to be the reason I look forward to coming home." I sit up to readjust myself, pulling the sheet up to my chest, his hand still in mine. He sits up too and continues on.
"Andy, I know you're hurting right now. Trust me, I'm hurting too. I'm devastated. But I also know it hurts me to not be with you. We had a future in the works and I'm not willing to throw that away. I hope you aren't either. I love you. I love you so much. I don't want to waste anymore time not being with you. I want to give you everything that you need."
I'm sobbing at this point. And there's a silence before I try and say anything. "P, I, look I love you. God, I love you. I'm not ready to try for kids. I don't know when I'll be ready. But I don't want you to resent me for that. I don't know when I'll heal from the pain I feel everyday. But, I, I," I struggle to finish. He brushes his thumb over my lips, my face between his hands. "Andy, I'm not even worried about that right now. I just want us to be us right now. I want us to grieve together. I want you to be alright. Maybe later down the road, we can reevaluate. I think you and I have had enough bumps and surprises in the road to last us a while. Okay?" His words are so soft, it's so comforting. "Okay. Yeah okay. You're right. I'm crying so much right now that I'm not even going to attempt to one up your speech. But what I am going to say is this. I knew you were my person the day that I met you. The day I bragged about you at work. The day that you saved me from dying on that trip." He chuckles. "Appendicitis wasn't going to kill you." I roll my eyes and laugh. "Whatever. You get what I mean. Look, I knew you were my guy the day I told you I was pregnant. And like you said, I hope we grow into being better partners for each other because I love you. And I don't want to mess it up again."
"Andy." He pauses. Long. But doesn't say anything. He stands up, walks over to a safe box and opens it. When he returns, his hand is in a fist. He sighs with anxiety. "Andy, I'm about to say something and I don't want you to bolt. It just feels right and I've had it for months." I feel my cheeks get hot. "Had what for months?" He's nervous, but remains composed. His fist opens up and reveals a small red box. I gasp. "Oh my god. P, those better not be earrings or some keychain or whatever. Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes. Shit! I'm supposed to let you ask first. Crap, they're earrings aren't they?" My face is boiling with anxiety and excitement. He laughs and opens the box. "Not earrings. And technically I need to ask before we get engaged. Andy, will you do me the honor of being my best friend and sharing this life with me? Will you marry me?" I spring up from the bed and throw my arms around him. He spins me around and his lips meet mine while his hands hold my face. "Yes," I say between sobs. "Happy tears. I swear they're happy tears," I say. "Yes, I'll marry you."