“You know this means I have to find an even better way to propose to you?”
“I’d expected nothing less.” Mark kissed my cheek. His arm was basically supporting my body at that point, otherwise I would’ve fallen off the chair and crashed to the ground. I looked at him and smile-laughed. I wiped my eyes. I tried to tamp down on my sudden disorienting sense of euphoria.
“Well...” Mark said. “What’s your answer?”
“You dunce,” I teased. “Yes. Of course it’s yes.” I hopped onto his chest, hugging him and whispering in his ear: “It’s always been a ‘yes’.” I kissed the side of his neck.
“I don’t think ‘always’ is the word I would use.”
“Fuck off.”
Then I heard Caleb’s voice again and I realized that I was in a room full of people—people that I knew and that would know me for the rest of my life. And they had all seen that painfully embarrassing and deeply personal moment.
I felt humiliated.
“Calm down,” Mark said. “Look at me.”
I looked at him.
“This is perfect. Give me your hand.”
I gave him my hand. I was passive in the whole thing. He tried to place the ring on my finger, but his hands were shaking so bad. I wasn’t the only one who was going to be embarrassed when this was over.
“Do I have to do it myself?”
“Shut up,” he whispered. He was skittish. I watched his face as he placed the ring on its final resting place. I didn’t care what the ring looked like... but his face in that moment... I’ve only seen him look that alive three or four times. Once when he placed that ring on my finger, once when we stood at the altar and tied the knot, once when we gave Alex the paper with his new name. I’m sure there were a couple other moments in our relationship, but this one far surpassed the rest.
The engagement was worth it just to see that brilliant look on his face, and to feel the nerves, and to feel so, so connected to someone else.
He was finally done with the stuff on his knees and we got up from the ground. I sat at the table, stiff as a board, because I had no idea what I was supposed to do after accepting the proposal. Mark sat beside me and held my hand, even though it wasn’t the hand with the ring. I stoically accepted the congratulations from his family and everything passed in a blur. Then I casually placed my hand with the ring on the table and Mark grabbed that hand like he was a dog with a new chew toy.
“Why don’t you two share a private moment together?” Martha suggested. She was still wiping her eyes.
“I’m okay,” I said, holding my emotions at bay. I was good at performing for others—everyone else’s needs came above my own. They wanted to see a perfect couple, so I was going to sit there and be a perfect couple.
I looked at Mark. He was silently bawling his eyes out. What a mushy dunce! Weak sauce!
I responded to his little touches and gripped his other hand, which was on my thigh under the table. I gave him a look that I tried to infuse with a million I love you’s but my face was kind of frozen and emotionally blank. I probably looked like a serial killer.
“Anyway,” I said. I touched the ring and twirled it on my finger. “This thing is burning my finger and itches like hell.”
The table laughed and Mark twisted my hand to indicate he didn’t think it was funny. I looked at him and smiled for the first time since he got down on one knee. Mark rose like he was a surfer riding a wave and surged towards my face.
He kissed me, very passionately and in front of his family.
I felt humiliated.
“Why don’t you two go share a private moment together?” Keegan echoed, which elicited a few laughs from around the table.
Mark got up and grabbed my hand, saying something about a ‘babe’.
“Okay,” I agreed.
I stood up and ducked my head. I wanted to wave to the table, but Mark grabbed my hand and basically dragged me out of the dining room.
I walked behind him, shell-shocked. I looked down at my hand and touched the ring. My hand looked so weird. “I’m never going to get used to this...”
“What?”
“Huh?” I looked up. I was still touching the ring.
Mark hugged me and started a litany of mushy words that are much too embarrassing to ever put into print. Then he asked, “How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
“Fine?” He looked at me like I was crazy. “That’s all I get? Babe, we’re engaged. Aren’t you excited? Did I do something wrong?”
“You did great,” I whispered. I touched his face and indicated that we should kiss. We did kiss—it wasn’t as passionate as what Mark had laid on me back in the dining room. “Love you,” I said mechanically. He echoed me, but with passion.
“Are you sure you’re okay? Normally you have a witty remark at a time like this. Something sarcastic.”
“I have nothing to say,” I said. “I feel...”
“Happy? Nervous? Scared?”
“Stunned.” I shook my head as I looked up into his handsome, smiling face. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, proudly. “It was soo perfect and so totally you. You argue for ten minutes about never getting married, then... bang! We’re engaged!” He was getting wound up. He said the word ‘bang’ like an explosion had gone off in his head and he was suddenly ready to start talking a million words a minute.
“It was perfect,” I agreed. “I completely thought you were bluffing.”
“I knew that if I could tap into your competitive streak, that would be the best way to squeeze a ‘yes’ out of you.” He squeezed my body for emphasis. “And, fuck, I’ve been trying to get you in the perfect moment for weeks!”
“Weeks?”
“Yeah. I bought this, like, three weeks ago and I’ve been waiting, and waiting, and waiting. And it drove my mom crazy with nerves.”
“So you all concocted a plan?”
“Uh... well, I told them I was going to do it this weekend. It was a really nice thing my dad did, pushing you into a fight like that. You get so competitive about certain things.”
You like your dad now? What kind of world have I stepped into?
“Right,” I said, dryly. “Let’s lay down. I need to let this all sink in.”
“Do you want to be alone?”
Fuck you! Fuck you, fuckyou fuckyou! No I don’t want to be fucking alone you shit shit shit!
“Okay,” he said. “Silly question.” Mark took me up to our room and I was silent as we walked through the hallway. Mark closed the bedroom door behind me.
I stopped in the middle of the room and started blinking furiously. Daylight streamed in through one of the windows and it was suddenly too bright—painfully bright.
“Let’s lay down,” Mark encouraged, touching me on the side. I looked at him and started bawling—like all out, leaky-faucet bawling. I disappeared into my tears and collapsed against his body. He stood and supported my body like I weighed nothing. I stuck my face in the crook of his neck and cried my heart out.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong, babe?” His soothing words only made me cry harder. I was completely out of it. “We don’t have to be engaged. I’m sorry I did—”
“No!” I wailed. I gathered myself and managed to stand under my own power. I stopped crying long enough to look at his face (yuck, I must have had red, puffy eyes and a shiny face). I kissed him passionately.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when we broke apart. “It’s not me, is it?”
I laughed as I cried. What a dunce! I’m engaged to a fucking dunce!
He kissed the side of my neck, then ruffled my hair. “I thought you didn’t want a ring? Who is this person?”
Exactly what I’m asking myself!
I cried and cried and cried as I clung to him for dear life. Mark patiently waited for the storm to pass.
“I want—” I started. “To be with you...” I gasped. “Forever...” My stom
ach clenched like I was going to start crying uncontrollably again.
“That’s what the ring is for,” Mark said.
I don’t want you to ever leave me.
“I thought it wasn’t important to you?” He kissed the side of my head.
“It—” I sobbed. “Isn’t.” I wiped my face with my ringless hand, then pressed my face against his neck.
“So it means nothing?”
“No,” I whispered. “It means a lot.”
Mark was still trying to soothe me. “So you wanted me to pop the question? All this time you were protesting and putting up a fight, but you wanted me to do it?”
“No,” I said again. “I didn’t know... I just, didn’t know.” I felt defeated and stupid. How could I have been so stupid? Of course it would feel different to be married to someone as opposed to just being their roommate. I guess I didn’t know what I wanted until I had it.
“You are the most confusing person I’ve ever met,” he said. “I was about fifty percent sure you were going to say ‘no’.”
“Ah!” I slapped his body—hard. Repeatedly. I started crying again. I couldn't form words. Never! Never, never, never! I never want to push you away.
Mark directed me to the bed. “Let’s lay down.”
I sat on the bed and took off my shirt.
“I thought you didn’t want to do that?” He sounded like his birthday had come early.
“Good Lord, Mark. I just want the skin-to-skin contact.”
He smiled at how suddenly I changed from weepiness to take complete control of the situation.
“I’ll show you skin-to-skin contact,” he said gruffly, twisting my nipple.
“Mark! Control yourself.”
“Control yourself,” he mocked. He stripped off his shirt in about a second and his pants and underwear in another two. He jumped on the bed, naked. “Your turn,” he said.
“Not that much skin.”
He laughed and pulled me into the covers. I laughed and let him.
Oh Mark...
“Mark Bradley Wolff,” I said wistfully. “I love you, man.”
I held his hand and made eye contact. He wasn’t scared off by the crazy tears or the super red eyes.
“Christopher Cheese Wolff,” he said. “I lov—”
I grabbed his balls so hard he gasped for air. I raised myself over his body and stared into his face. My jeans-clad butt was close to his now-shriveled cock.
“I think it’s cute how you think I’m supposed to take your name.” I stared him down.
“You can keep your name,” he said hastily. “I was just teasing!”
“I don’t know,” I said sternly. “Mark Sullivan has such a nice ring to it.”
“You little fucker!” He wrestled with me and we laughed. Mark eventually got me out of my restrictive pants but I kept my underwear.
We calmed down and I settled into his arms. I was completely drained. It was probably two in the afternoon and I was ready for bed.
I felt the ring on my finger and laid it on the sheets so I could see it without moving my head. “My parents are going to flip out,” I said.
“They already know.”
I sat upright. “What?” Who told them?
“I asked your dad for permission.”
“You what?” I squinted in confusion. “When?”
“The night you came out. You ran out to talk to your mother—”
“Super dramatic,” I muttered.
“Par for the course,” he said, jostling my stomach, but not enough to really tickle me. “So you were down talking to your mom and I explained to your dad how things stood between me and you. He asked if I was serious about being with you. And I said I was going to marry you and that I would expect his blessing.”
“So he didn’t give you his blessing. You just said you were going to get it someday.”
“He thought about it, said some things about you that I completely agreed with. He asked how long we had been in love. Then he gave it to me.”
“Really?”
“Really. So they won’t be surprised at all.” He kissed me sweetly.
“Wow,” I said. That was a huge weight taken off my chest. “I was already planning on having them over for a sit-down dinner and explaining how actually we’re not just boyfriends, we’re engaged!” I laughed slowly, but in my head I was cackling like a hyena at the thought of my mother being stunned to see me with a ring on my finger.
“Problem solved,” Mark stated.
WELP, I’M GOING TO ruin the beginning of the next installment because that particular problem was not solved—my dad had not informed my mother of that conversation with Mark. My mother didn’t have a clue and was violently emotional when she saw me. She slapped me across the face and shrieked for a good ten minutes—she was not happy about the surprise.
But that’s a story for later.
If you want to skip the next book, The Businessman, I wouldn’t blame you. It features more sex between me and Mark and we tentatively opened our relationship to give Mark more sexual outlets. It also features me and the nerdy gang searching for more funding. That first year of getting our research application off the ground was a time of great fluctuation and hair-yanking. We jumped from one funding pool to the next until we finally found a long-term solution.
If you decide to skip that book, I highly recommend reading the book after called The Husband, as it is the start of the last mega-arc of this memoir. The Husband is a perfect entry point to It’s Just Us Here. It’s the beginning of the story of our son Alex and how he came into our lives and how we fought for him and how we eventually adopted him. He completed my little family and he brings me such joy as I go through these stupid cancer treatments. The story of Alex might be a little less readable for the average person because I didn’t write it for you. I wrote it for one person: the older Alex. I want him to know the story of how he became our son and how he was loved right from the beginning. Mark and I pulled him from the worst situation you can possibly imagine, and he has been in my heart ever since. I’m very happy that we were able to adopt him—very, very happy.
But I didn’t write that story for my average reader. For reference, I wrote my ‘friends-to-lovers’ story arc for Mark and also for other non-sexual people who might be lonely and wondering if they could ever be someone’s special person. It worked for me—and I wanted those readers to believe it could work for them.
I wrote the ‘Lovers and Second Chances’ story arc because I wanted to show you how people evolve and come together in a relationship, but I also wanted to show you my friends and how my found family has become as important to me as my flesh and blood family.
I also wrote those first two large ‘arcs’ of my self-portrait for you, the reader. I wrote Alex’s story for Alex. You might not like it. If you get anything out of our adoption story, I hope you realize that two men in a loving relationship can be just as right and ‘normal’ as any hetero couple. I do worry about what kids say to Alex when he’s in school. I worry that he’ll be bullied because he has two dads. I worry that he will feel pressured to over-express his hetero-ness. I worry a lot about my son. But no matter what happens—he is mine, and I will protect him until the day I die. So please, if you find out who we are in real life, keep it to yourself. If you want these books to live on after I die, please share the story with someone you think might enjoy it.
Until next time,
Christopher Cheese Sullivan (soon to be Wolff?)
Author's Note
THANK YOU FOR READING It's Just Us Here: The Fiancé.
Book Seven: The Businessman is not on pre-order at the moment because I'm not sure I'll make my deadline. It will go live on September 30. Or maybe I should say September 31? Get it by supporting me on Patreon and I'll love you forever. :)
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Author's Intense Gratitude
THANK YOU TO THE FOLLOWING AMAZING READERS who helped clean up this manuscript. All existing errors are my fault.
Gabi, Xia Xia Lake, Ann-C, Annie L, Steffi, Anwen, Claudia, Lisa, Lost in a Book and Niru.
In your own way, you've each helped me 'cut' certain sections of this book and your suggestions are carrying over into book seven.
Without your help, these two books would have been much messier. Like. Super messy.
And now Book Six is maybe my favorite book out of all of them. Book One will always hold a special place in my heart, but this current book was such a joy to read after you all delivered your suggestions.
Thank you so much!
Thank you to my family for their assistance, especially my Editor in Chief.
Also, if any readers find errors in the manuscript, send me an email and I'll fix it pronto.
Author's Biography
CHRIS IS A WRITER FROM MIDWEST AMERICA and shaped by the rural township of his youth and his extended family, almost all of whom still live within ten minutes of each other.
His garden now has a rail barrel system, which makes him very happy. One day he will be a homesteader!
He's had a mostly fine summer. Gladioli are blooming and the dahlias are propagating like crazy this year. Good times!
The next book is still giving him headaches, but the end is in sight! He's so excited. :)
The List of Amazing Patrons!
:) :) :) :) :)
Thanks to new Patrons Fikre Weldai, steffi stardust, Maria Brodén, & Charlotte Oelke. Welcome and thank you!
And here's the complete list!:
Fikre Weldai, steffi stardust, Maria Brodén, Charlotte Oelke, Niru, Casual Art, Pam Hudgens, Eef, Brit Murray, Bran, Brianna, Sara Krefors, Philtatos, Nola Superba, Alba L May, Ann xn, Anne Lost in a Book, Annie L, annob, Barrett Parsons-Justice, Brian Bennett, Gabi, Kay Jay, Lau, and Zsanett Ujvári.
The Fiancé (It's Just Us Here Book 6) Page 33
