"She never saw herself as a West Coaster, / Moved all the way 'cause her grandma told her--"

"Leah?" David interrupts me, with a grimace twisting his face.

"Yeah?" I ask him curiously. 

"What are you doing?" he asks me, sounding half curious, half disgusted.

"I'm singing."

"Singing. Ah," he says, nodding his head in understanding, as if he is now truly enlightened.

"Is it that bad?" 

"It's atrocious."

"Well, guess what?" I ask him.

"What?"

"I don't give a fuck."

I smile at him, and then continue with my atrocious singing.

"She's got a book for every situation / Gets into parties without invitations / How could you ever turn her down?"

He presses on the gas a little harder when I start to sing again. I cant help it. I chuckle, even start coughing a bit, earning a glare from him. As soon as I recover, I start to sing again -- only louder.

"How would I tell her that she's all I think about?"

I swear, if you don't stop," we say and sing at the same time.

"What?" I ask him. He just glares playfully, but I don't let him finish his threat, because as soon as he opens his mouth, my favourite part comes back.

"She's a good girl!"

"Leah."

"She's such a good girl!"

Leah, I swear to god if you don't--"

"She's a good girl!"

"Please stop," he groans

"She feels so good! / She feels so good!"

I look over at him, and see a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. If I'm going to be honest with myself, I'm trying to occupy my time, distract myself from the nervousness of having absolutely no idea where I'm going.

"Before you ask, yes. We're almost there," he states, answering my unspoken question.

"How much longer?" I ask him, looking out the car window, not recognizing my environment at all.

He rolls his eyes. "Ten minutes."

"I'm hungry."

"Food will be there."

"And you still won't tell me where were going?"

"Nope."

"Come on," I whine miserably.

"Nope," he grins.

"Tell me, or I'll start singing again," I threaten.

"That's not fair."

"Tell me."

"Nope," he answers. "Torture me if you want, but it will take more than your horrific voice to break me."

"She's a good girl! / She's such a good girl!"

"Now, now, you don't have to--"

She's a good girl! / Feels so good! / She feels so good!"

"Why must you be like this?"

"She feels so good! / She feels so good! / Oh, she's a good girl! / She feels so good!"

"You're evil."

"Just tell me. I hate surprises. They make me nervous. Please."

"Just eight more minutes."

"David, I'm trying to distract myself because I'm having a nervous breakdown."

"Fine. I won't tell you what it is, but I'll tell you about it."

I'm not satisfied, but I nod in agreement; I'll compromise.

"I've been wanting to take you here for a long time now. You already know that food will be there."

"You're being very vague right now."

"I don't wan't to give it away. If I say anything else, I will."

I sit back in my seat and grumble to myself in irritation.

"I'm very sure that you'll love it."

"And why is that?" 

"You'll have to try harder than that to get clues out of me. Put this on."

He pulls over reaches across into the glove compartment and takes out a blindfold, and then hands it to me.

"What the fuck, David?"

"Just do it, Leah."

Letting out the deepest, longest, most exasperated sigh that I can manage, I put the blindfold over my face.

"Happy?"

"Immensely," he replies, driving off. I try my best to pay attention to the twists and turns of the road to get a clue as to where we are going, but I am not Bryan Mills, so it doesn't quite work out that way.

"We're here," he announces, "and don't touch your blindfold."

"David," I whine.

"Nope."

"If it's a food place, I've probably been here before."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"So why do this?" I ask as he walks me out of the car.

"Just because."

he guides me all over the place: up some stairs, then down some, then near what sounds like water. He then has me sit.

"You can take it off now," he states.

I take it off, and gasp. We're on top of a hill, or mountain, and there's some sort of pool to our left. I look around us, and I see flowers, shrubs, all different kinds of plants. It's beautiful. I know that I've heard of this place, seen pictures, even, but I've never been.

"Strawberry Hill."

"You've been?"

"No; I've seen pictures."

I look around again, my mind blown.

"But the pictures don't do it justice."

"I doubt they ever could."

 "You're fucking amazing, you know that?"

"Yeah," he says with a cheeky grin, "I know."

***

I burp loudly after finishing what is probably the best burger that I have ever had.

"Such a lady, Leah."

"I know, right?"

"You're shameless."

"I love you, too."

"My love is infinite."

"Where are you going with this?" I ask suspiciously.

"I'm making you a promise. To love you unconditionally."

"I promise to love you unconditionally, too."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.

"Before you shit yourself, it's a promise ring," he states, opening the box and presenting a golden infinity ring. It seems to be bent out of some sort of wire.

"It's... beautiful, David," I tell him, taking the box from him. I take it from the box and put it on my ring finger.

"Uh..."

"I know it's not an engagement ring, David. It means that I'm taken."

"Oh. Okay."

"So I guess I have to get you one now," I joke, getting up.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea."

He takes me to the back of the garden, where we sit on a bench together, overlooking one of  the hillside. Before, when I couldn't help but think about Andrew, I would have given anything to turn back time, so that he wouldn't have died. Now, I don't want to say that I'm happy that he's dead, but I've never been happier than I am with David, and if I could change things, I wouldn't.

So I guess, in a fuked up, twisted sort of way... 

I'm happy as a result of his death. How can that not make me feel guilty?

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I whisper.

"Leah."

"David."

He lets out an exasperated sigh. "Leah, talk to me. Please."

He's not going to let this go. I know it. Even if I don't tell him, it will bother him, and it will stay on his mind.

"It's just that..."

I swallow, and exhale deeply.

"I remember that there was a time that I would do anything to bring Andrew back. Right now, no one has ever made me happier than you have. I wouldn't bring him back if I could, because then, I would never have met you. That lead me to realise... my happiness is as a result of his death. How can I not feel guilty?"

He sucks on his bottom lip and looks at me through narrowed eyes, as if choosing his next words with much care, then releasing it with a pop.

"Sometimes, you really overthink things," he murmurs softly.

"Yeah. I know," I answer, looking down at my hands.

"Leah. Look at me. There's nothing wrong with what your'e feeling."

I look up at him with my brows raised.

"I feel the same way about my sister. Who knows what my life would be if she were alive? I would probably have been at a piano concert, or driving her home instead of at your gallery. Even if we met... I didn't date when she was alive. Since mum and dad live in Westmoreland, and she has no relatives in Kingston or St. Andrew, she lived with me. She was my number one priority. But now, you are my number one priority. That's just how life is, and I wouldn't change it if I could. Many times in life, when there's a tragedy, there's also a bright side, something that makes all of the pain worth it. You're my bright side, and I'm yours."

"This is one of the many reasons why I love you," I tell him with longing.

"Why?"

"You make everything better."

"I do try," he states with a modest shrug. "Now let's get you home. I want to see how that ring looks on your hand while its gripping my bed sheets," he tells me, gripping my ass as he gets up.

"Of course, David," I say, more than willing to humor this particular demand. "Whatever you like." Because I know that I will like it too. I always do; whether he's kissing me, loving me, making me laugh, taking care of me... even if I don't like it in the moment, I come to appreciate it -- to like it -- eventually. It's as if he always knows what's best for me. Sometimes, I trust him more than myself. He always knows when I'm in trouble, in pain, what I need; and I could never ask for someone better than him. "Whatever you like."