An explanation, and a proposal

We clean up and climb into bed as we are, me still naked and Kristina still in her teddy, feeling spent and very happy. Kristina spoons against me and pulls my hands around to her tits; I can feel her nipples touching my palms through the fabric. I hold her for a while, nuzzling her neck, then ask, “What you said there—about—”

“About wanting to have your babies?” she asks softly.

“Yeah,” I respond. “Did you mean that? Is it something you’ve been thinking about?”

“It is,” she answers, “and—sort of. Not right now—I didn’t actually mean that for right now. —Well, I did right then, because it seemed incredibly erotic, but when you haven’t fucked my brains clean out of my head, I don’t want to have children yet. But I’ve been realizing—I do want to have your babies. When the time is right.”

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“When life is stable,” Kristina answers, “and looks like it should be stable for a good while. Right now—you know I’m planning to go somewhere else for grad school, right?”

“Of course,” I say.

“Had you thought at all—”

I break in. “Kristina, I’ve just been waiting for you to tell me where I’m transferring next fall.”

I hadn’t realized she was tensing up, but I can feel her relax. “I’m so glad,” she says. The relief in her voice makes me feel guilty that I hadn’t said something before now—but I’d assumed she knew I wanted to come with her, assuming she wanted me to. “I’ve been having little panic attacks at the thought of going off to grad school and leaving you here. It sounds silly, but—”

“No, it doesn’t,” I reassure her. “You have recent and painful experience telling you that people you love can die when you’re separated from them. In fact, not counting your parents, experience tells you that happens every time. So what if it’s only once? The alligator brain doesn’t care about phrases like ‘small sample size.’”

Kristina giggles. I love her giggle, and I’m especially happy to hear it now. “Besides,” I continue, “look at it from my perspective.”

“Oh?” she says, taken a little by surprise. She’s really been all up in knots about this, I realize.

“Yeah,” I say frankly. “I was a virgin who’d never been kissed before I came here, and now I have a stunningly amazing and incomprehensibly sexy woman for a girlfriend, and you think I want to be separated from you? Baby, the whole idea blows goat snot.”

That catches Kristina off guard, and she goes into a fit of giggles so hard, she forgets to breathe for a while. Once she has herself mostly under control, she says unsteadily, “Well, that’s certainly a vivid image. Where did you ever come up with that one?”

“I have no idea,” I respond airily.

Kristina giggles a little more at my insouciance, then continues more seriously. “I want to have your children, but only when we’re in a strong enough financial position to care for them, which means being through grad school; and I want to be married.”

Is she asking me to marry her? I wonder. I open my mouth to ask that, but then another question occurs to me. “You’re not worried that we don’t know each other well enough?”

Kristina turns her head to kiss me over her shoulder, then says, “I’m not worried about you at all. Remember everything I was saying earlier about why my friends have accepted you as a friend—you’re loving and caring and thoughtful, you’re a man of integrity and good character, you keep your promises, and you’re an interesting person to talk to and be with. More than that, though, I’ve seen you come through for me in times of intense stress. How many times were there that you could have had me with a word—even without a word, just by saying nothing—that you turned and walked away—and you didn’t owe Rob anything! You never even met him. You did it because I had promised—you kept my promise for me.”

“Well—” I start to say, but Kristina overrides me.

“Sure, that first time, or the first few times, it would have meant never seeing me again; but even that isn’t much to resist temptation. And after that, it had to have occurred to you that if I’d given in and fucked you once, I might have broken up with Rob and kept you. Because I might well have.”

“Well, yes,” I admit sheepishly. Kristina picks up on that.

“It’s nothing to feel bad about, baby,” she says, reaching behind her head to stroke my face. “Anything but. You could have had me, more than once, and you let me go every time. That takes strength of will and strength of character. That takes balls, love—big, heavy ones.”

I kiss Kristina’s neck and suck lightly on her ear. “Thank you, baby,” I say quietly.

“Thank you,” she returns emphatically. “But that’s not all. When Rob died, you were there for me—and all for me, not for yourself. You took care of me, you held me up, you held me together. I tried to give back to you, but I took far more than I could give, because I needed to—and you were just there, glad to give me what I needed, including the time I needed. I don’t know how I would have made it through without you.

“The point is, I’ve seen you tested—hard—and you’ve come through. Why should I have any doubts about you? Why should I worry that I don’t know you well enough? What more could I possibly want from you than what you’ve already shown me?”

I stop and consider her words. She makes sense. I haven’t known her long, but it has been a pretty intense period of time. After a few moments, Kristina continues, “If anyone has any reason to worry, it’s you. Do you think you need more time to get to know me?”

I ponder Kristina’s question while she waits in silence for me to speak. I realize she’s tensed up a little—she’s actually afraid I might have concerns about her. I start to tell her that I don’t, then pause. What, really, is the question here?

I can almost hear the silence filling my ears. What’s the question here? In the end, I can only think of one, and so I ask it: “Kristina Lewis, will you marry me?”

I don’t think she was expecting that. A bolt of energy seems to shoot through her, then she goes limp in my arms. She regathers herself and rolls over, pulling my face to hers and kissing me passionately. When she breaks off, I can see tears in her eyes, and I can hear them in her voice as she says, “Yes. Andrew Lane, yes. Always and forever, yes.”