“No,” she said through her tears.
I actually laughed out loud in confusion. “No?”
“I can’t marry you, Lucas,” she cried, wiping her cheeks.
“You can,” I told her gently. “I checked the law, and it’s completely legal.”
“Lucas, listen to me,” she said, shaking her head.
“What is it?” I asked.
She pushed the ring box back toward me across the carpet. “I love you too much to do this.”
“That is an extremely confusing reason to reject someone,” I told her softly.
But she explained her reasoning. She didn’t want to make me a widower, and more than that, she was terrified that marrying her would leave me buried under medical bills and debt after she was gone. I told her we’d talk to lawyers, but she firmly refused. Six months later, I proposed again, and she said no. I asked again on our third anniversary, and she said no. Once, I even proposed jokingly in the frozen food aisle of a grocery store, and she threw a bag of frozen peas straight at my chest.
Eventually, I stopped asking. I didn’t stop because I stopped wanting Chloe to be my wife, but because I understood something important. Loving Chloe meant learning that sometimes pushing wasn’t devotion, and sometimes it was just pushing.
Part 2
