"Calling anyone at this hour is out of the question, unless you'd like to be murdered, Everly Anne."

"Do you think he'd even talk to me?"

I soothed my hand along her hip. "Timothy? Are we now talking about Timothy?"

She stayed quiet, and her body was too rigid against mine. I rolled over, and stared down into her eyes. "Everly Anne, what are you so worried about?"

"He knows what to do," she said regretfully. "I can't deny that."

"Do you really want your father here?" I asked. "Do you really want to rip open those wounds, right now? This pregnancy is delicate enough without adding more drama to the scene."

"You won't let him come?" she asked nervously.

"Let him? This is not a prison, Everly Anne."

"I know you don't like my father. And . . . this is your house."

I climbed out of bed, and paced in the dark, past the window of our bedroom. I didn't want to fight again, but my blood was already heated, and rising.

"Everly Anne, sweetest love of mine, please, for the love of God, listen to me. Open up the ears you once used to have before crazy pregnancy hormones took over, and hear what I am saying to you." I leaned my palms on the bed and gazed down at her. "This is our home. You're my other half-the best fuckin' half of myself-you make up everything that is missing in my life. When I'm pissed-off, you calm me down. When I'm hopeless, you pour faith into me. When I'm grumpy, you make me smile. When I'm tired, you keep me awake. When I'm clueless, you walk with me until I'm found. I love you more than three simple words. I adore you endlessly. But Everly Anne, you're driving me fuckin' crazy tonight." I laughed lightly, and then sighed. "I think I messed up somewhere. Didn't I?"

She shook her head. "You didn't do anything."

I brushed her cheek. "I know-that's my point. I didn't do anything to tie you to me, and now were up at three in the morning, fighting again, but now it's about your father coming to rescue you." I leaned in closer. "Why can't I rescue you, Everly Anne? Have I not cared well enough for you this far? I'm the father of our baby, and you want your prick father to come save the day. So what haven't I done?"

"I'm not looking for a pity proposal," she said.

I lifted her chin. "No? Then what kind of proposal, Topolina?"

"It's not about marriage," she replied. But she turned her face away, because her face had eyes that couldn't hide secrets from me. "Forget I asked."

I crawled to her. "I would marry you." I kissed her down to the mattress. "I am married to you, Everly Anne. In my heart that's how it feels. There's nothing-no one-else who owns my heart like you do. No one who I have ever made love to other than you. No one that I have ever loved, period. No one. Just just just you."

"I can't make love again," she whispered. "Please stop."

"Are you scared?"

"I'm tired," she replied.

"I'm not talking about sex." I kissed her mouth, cradling her face in my hands. "I'm talking about marrying me."

She gazed at me. "I don't want to marry you," she said.

"Like you didn't want to go to the Met with me?" I kissed her once. "Or hold hands with me?" Twice. "Or walk home with me?" Three times. Deeper. She kissed me back that time. "Or live one free day in Montauk? Or let me make love to you?" She sighed into my mouth as I kissed her more feverishly. "Or keep yourself alive for a whole year, just so I could keep you?" She moved her lips against mine with the same carnal need. "That kind of "don't want", Everly Anne?"

"There's too much happening," she panted. "I'm not supposed to be so involved. This isn't supposed to be the story I leave behind." She hid her face into my shoulder. "I wanted it to be so simple."

"I know," I groaned. "I read your fuckin' letter. The last letter you left me in my notebook." I pulled back a little so I could see her. "I know you're scared, Everly Anne, I know you are. But that's the whole point of us. You're supposed to cling harder to me when you're scared, not move further away. Seek comfort in me, Everly Anne-the same comfort that carries me to you-let me help, let me inside. Let us be married to each other. Not only on paper, or in words, but in how your heart sings for me, and how mine beats for you." I pressed her fingers to my chest. "Only for you." She drew me to her lips. "Marry me, Everly Anne."

"Make love to me," she whispered.

"Surrender first."

"Let me feel how much you want me as your wife, first."

I groaned into her mouth. "Your arguments are getting better."

"So let me win," she said.

"Will you marry me?"

"Will you forgive me for wanting Timothy to come here?"

I paused, and then kissed her. "I don't think it's a good idea, but if it comforts you, I'll ask him to come."

She gazed up at me. "Do you think he will?"