Marry me... Pt.2

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An: I'm lazy, not spell checked

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An: I'm lazy, not spell checked.

I nod.

  That's all I can manage. My throat feels as if it has been stuffed with cotton, and I can't speak.

He gently opens the box, taking the simple ring out of it— a silver band, with a single, small diamond encased in it.

"It's the best I could manage." He says, his eyes searching my face. "It was my mother's. I will get you a better one, as soon as I get the—"

I cut him off with a kiss, gently cupping his face in my hands.
"It's perfect, Jake. Absolutely perfect."

He smiles, gently taking my left hand and sliding the ring into my fourth finger.

  "I'm sorry, it's not the best." He says, standing, his hands on my arms. I roll my eyes, taking his hands.

"Damn it, Hangman." I say, pressing a kiss to his nose before pulling him into a hug. "It's beautiful, and I wouldn't have asked for anything different."



Coyote peeks his head around the corner, followed by Phoenix and Bradley.

Brooke's back is too them, and Hangman raises his eyebrows.

"Did she say yes?" Coyote mouths, and Hangman gives them a thumbs up. They silently cheer, high-fiving before ducking out of view.

***

The Harddeck is packed, but our small group of aviators managed to snag a booth in the corner.

  "So." Rooster says casually, leaning forward on the table. I raises her eyebrows at her brother, and he grins. "You're pregnant."

I sip my soda, glancing at Hangman, who is deep into a conversation with Coyote and Phoenix. His hand rests on my knee, his thumb gently rubbing circles over my jeans.

"He told you?"

"Yeah. It's just..." he trails off. "I wish you had said something to me."

"I just told Jake." I say, sighing. "I was— am embarrassed."

He smiles kindly at me.
"I know...Mama would be so excited." I sigh, playing with my hands, my newly acquired ring catching the light.

"Y-Yeah, she would be." I say, smiling. Jake leans towards me, his breath fanning out across my neck.

"What was that, baby?" He asks, and I shake my head.

"Nothing."


***
(Ten years later)

(A hella long time jump, I know, just trust me.)






  "Natasha, please put your brother down." I say, sweeping up my daughter and putting my youngest son, Pete, on my hip. She was holding him my his ankles, his head sweeping dangerously close too the floor.

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