“Come on, kids,” Indira yells, breaking the tension of the moment. “Cheer up for mommy and daddy, they made up.”

Everyone laughs and claps and cheers. And I’m so stupidly happy I can’t talk. I can only keep smiling at the man I love, whose eyes now reflect the same love he must see in mine.

“What happens now?” I whisper.

My anger has burned out and I’m becoming very self-conscious. Shouting my feelings in front of all my colleagues and forcing a love admission out of Richard were not part of the plan when I woke up this morning.

“We can start with a first date,” Richard says. “Dinner?”

“It’s two-thirty, I’m not hungry.”

Richard leans in and whispers, “Oh, you will be. Because we’re stopping at my place first.”

I blush a furious red and hide my face in Richard’s chest.

“Everyone,” Richard says aloud. “It’s been a long week. Let’s take the rest of the day off.”

The cheers that follow this announcement are even more widespread and enthusiastic.

Richard takes my hand and whistles for Chevron to follow us out of the office. As we reach the door and exit, an echo of Indira’s comment reaches me. “… if they’d told me all it took to have the afternoon off was to get the boss laid, I would’ve pimped him more.”

“Indira.” Ada’s voice is barely audible through the door. “You’ve missed the whole point. It’s not about getting laid, it’s about love.”

“Please don’t tell me we have another hopeless romantic in the house…”

Mercifully, the elevator arrives and I can’t hear any more of Indira’s pretend-cynic comments.

The three of us step in, and as soon as the doors swipe closed, Richard pushes me into a corner. One hand on my lower back, the other buried in my hair.

“I love you.” He nibbles my earlobe. “It’s so good to say it. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whisper, trying not to combust.

“Woof, woof.” Chevron joins the party at our feet, yapping happily.

We pull apart and scratch her behind both ears.

“Yes, we love you, too,” I say.

Richard squeezes my hand and I stare into his eyes, realizing I don’t care if he’s never going to propose. Our trio feels more like a family than anything I’ve ever had before.

Twenty-two

Don’t Move In Without a Ring

Six months later…

Stretching in bed has become difficult. With Chevron—now grown into a medium-sized dog—sprawled over my feet and Richard on my right side, even my tiny figure is experiencing space rationing. Regardless of Richard’s California King Bed. But the cozy warmth of two bodies pressed against mine is particularly delicious on a cold winter day.

Outside Richard’s window, a rainstorm is attacking New York. It’s been pouring since Monday, meaning I’ve spent three nights in a row at Richard’s place. The boyfriend doesn’t seem upset about it, but sometimes I suspect that even if he were, he’d be too British to tell me.