“No.”
“You're not.”
Daniel snapped, “Please don't manage me right now.”
She stopped.
Then said gently:
“Okay.”
She sat herself.
Waited.
Three minutes later Daniel sat beside.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
He covered face.
“I can't do this again.”
Riley's voice quiet.
“Do what?”
“Lose somebody.”
There.
Not Sophie’s injury.
Lauren.
Always underneath.
Riley took his hand.
“You don't get guarantee.”
“I know.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I know.”
“But loving less won't protect you.”
Daniel looked.
She continued:
“It only makes you lose people before they're gone.”
He closed eyes.
Those words stayed.
Sophie emerged two hours later with three stitches and strict instructions not to climb stools.
She argued stool was equipment.
Daniel nearly cried from relief.
That night after Sophie slept, Daniel stood in Riley’s kitchen.
He looked different.
Decision made somewhere private.
Riley noticed.
“What?”
Daniel reached into jacket.
No ring.
Riley laughed nervously.
“You scared me.”
He smiled.
“I haven't bought it.”
“Bought what?”
“Ring.”
Silence.
Daniel continued.
“I'm asking badly.”
“Very.”
“I want to marry you.”
Riley stared.
He took breath.
“I kept waiting for moment when fear went away.”
“It isn't going to.”
“I loved Lauren and lost her.”
“I love Sophie and can't control world around her.”
“I love you.”
Her eyes filled.
“And I keep thinking if I wait until love feels safe, I'll wait forever.”
Riley whispered:
“Daniel.”
“I’m not asking tonight.”
“Why not?”
He blinked.
She smiled through tears.
“Seems inefficient.”
Daniel laughed.
“I wanted ring.”
“I have rings.”
“That's not point.”
“You're right.”
She stepped closer.
“When you ask properly, I’m saying yes.”
He stared.
“You just ruined surprise.”
“I improve processes.”
He kissed her.
“CEO.”
“Mechanic.”
They laughed against each other.
Daniel proposed properly three weeks later.
Garage.
Of course.
He closed early.
Sophie decorated with paper snowflakes.
Riley arrived expecting dinner.
Daniel stood beside her restored Triumph.
The bike polished.
Fuel line visible beneath tank.
Riley smiled.
“What is this?”
Daniel held small velvet box.
“Your motorcycle broke.”
She laughed.
“Excellent beginning.”
“You pushed it through snow.”
“I remember.”
“You walked into my garage.”
“You charged me sixty dollars.”
“Fair price.”
“Debatable.”
He smiled.