Chapter 9 - THE DAY I STOOD FOR HER
I waited another year.
Not because Tessa required me to walk.
She never did.
I needed to understand that myself.
The proposal I had imagined involved standing.
That bothered me.
Why?
Because some part of me still believed standing made the moment more legitimate.
More masculine.
More complete.
So I changed the plan.
On the anniversary of the day Tessa refused to cancel my therapy, I took her to the rehabilitation center my foundation had opened.
The facility provided subsidized therapy, adaptive equipment, caregiver support, and transportation.
The sign outside read:
THE FORWARD CENTER
Tessa stared.
“You named a building after one of your motivational speeches?”
“It tested better than The Tessa Is Mean Center.”
She laughed.
Inside, Hector waited.
Rachel.
Marcus.
My therapists.
Tessa became suspicious.
“Vincent.”
“What?”
“What did you do?”
I rolled toward her.
No attempt to stand.
No performance.
I took out the ring.
She covered her mouth.
“Before you say anything—”
“I have boundaries.”
“Shocking.”
She laughed through tears.
I continued.
“You met me when I thought my life had ended because I couldn't use my legs.”
Her eyes filled.
“You never promised I'd walk.”
“No.”
“You never told me everything would be okay.”
“Because I didn't know.”
“You told me the truth.”
I took her hand.
“You showed me that needing help didn't make me less of a man.”
She cried.
“And then you left when staying would have made our relationship unequal.”
I smiled.
“That was extremely irritating.”
She laughed.
“But you were right.”
I opened the box.
“I don't need you to rescue me.”
Her tears fell.
“I don't need to stand to ask you this.”
I took a breath.
“I only need to know whether you want to keep moving forward beside me.”
“Tessa Morgan, will you marry me?”
She nodded before I finished.
“Yes.”
I stared.
“You interrupted the end.”
“Yes.”
“I practiced.”
“Still yes.”
I put the ring on her finger.
Then she kissed me.
Afterward, Rachel whispered:
“You should stand for the photo.”
Tessa turned so quickly Rachel raised both hands.
“Joking!”
Everyone laughed.
Later, privately, Tessa helped me toward the parallel bars.
“Want to?”
she asked.
That distinction mattered.
Not:
You should.
Not:
You need to.
Want to?
“Yes.”
I braced.
Pushed.
My legs trembled.
I stood.
Tessa stood in front of me.
I looked into her eyes.
“I would have married you sitting down.”
“I know.”
May you like
I smiled.
“That is exactly why I wanted to stand.”
