I don’t speak, I just laugh. Hard. Uncontrollable laughter racks my body. I cover my mouth to stop it, but it doesn’t help one bit. “Why are you laughing?” His face is stone, serious and intimidating. “I don’t know… that was just funny,” I say. We reach the porch, and he shifts me slightly so he can turn the knob on the door. “Me telling you that I’d do anything for you is funny?” “You’ll do anything for me—except go to Seattle, marry me, or have children with me?” Even in my drunkenness, the irony is not lost on me.
Yesssssss
