(Patrick's POV)

"Is this one of those restaurants with endless breadsticks?" I joked from across the small table.

Pete grinned. "We haven't gotten any yet. Should I call the waitress over and demand delicious butter rolls?"

"Please."

He probably would have actually done it just to make me laugh. But it was too late in the meal. Our waitress cleaned our dinner plates a few minutes ago. It was a delicious meal. A nice restaurant. Not a five star spot but definitely no Applebees. The windows were dark as if anyone in here was too exclusive a person to be gawked at in normal windows. The table cloths were a deep red color. Accented by the single red rose in the crystal glass between us.

Pete purchased a full bottle of champagne. And we made good use of it. The half empty bottle sat between us. Being the reason for constant giggles and sultry glances at each other.

"What's taking the dessert so long?" He strained his neck to look over my head.

"We're not in a rush." I finished the rest of my glass. Pete immediately reached over to fill it.

"Sorry for the wait."

As if she heard Pete's complaints, our waitress -Stephanie- arrived with two small plates. Carefully she sat down the sweets. We each ordered the same thing. Red velvet cupcakes surrounded by homemade ice cream. It looked amazingly prepared. I was glad Pete convinced me to order the dessert.

"This is such a small cupcake." I teased. Lifting it up with my thumb and forefinger.

Pete nodded in agreement. Breaking a piece off the top and popping it into his mouth. He hummed in appreciation. Motioning for me to taste it. It would be ridiculous to pinch at it. It was small enough to eat in one bite so that's what I did.

"No!" Pete yelled. Gaining the attention of close tables.

"What?" I managed through a mouth full of cake.

"Don't eat it like that!"

"Why?" The discomfort of talking with my mouth full was too much. And Pete seemed horrified at the idea of me eating the cupcake. So I spit it out into the plate. So much for my homemade ice cream. I lifted the glass of champagne Pete poured for me. Using the liquid to wash any remains of the sweet taste from my mouth. "Is something wrong with it?"

"No. It's just..." His eyes darted to my destroyed dessert.

I followed his gaze towards the plate. Frowning when I saw the glint of some sort of metal. I was surprised a place like this would allow a slip up like that. What the hell could it even be? I pushed the crumbs of the cupcake out of the way. Pitching the round edge between my fingers and lifting it up. The diamond glittered in the darkened light of the restaurant. A diamond? Why the hell- a diamond! A ring. A fucking diamond ring!

"What the-"

I dropped it from my fingers as if it were scolding hot. It hit the edge of the plate with a ringing clink. My head raced. Spinning in circles fast enough to make me pass out from dizziness. My breathing sped up dangerously. I was going to hyperventilate. I was going to fall out. I glanced up at Pete who was watching me with reserved amusement.

"What the hell, Pete?"

"Surprise?" His smile wobbled.

"Pete?"

"Okay." He reached across the table for the ring. I picked it up and planed it in his hand. Pete grimaced, using his napkin to clean the food and probably my saliva from it as he spoke. "I pictured this going way differently."

I snorted. It was a dry, nervous sound. "I'm sure." I couldn't feel myself breathing anymore. I must be doing it, but I couldn't feel it happening. I was alive after all. My body was doing it without he help of my brain.

"I-Well obviously I want to marry you."

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit. This had to be a dream. This couldn't be real. There was no way this was actually happening. There was no way Pete would want to propose to me a second time. Not after all the shit I put him through. Fucking Brendon. Almost fucking Ryan. It wasn't right. He didn't know everything. Was he fucking dense?!

"B-But." I struggled for an excuse. "It's only been a little while-"

"But I've known you for years. We've been together for much longer than a little while. And I feel the same way about you as I did before I left. You're my soulmate." There goes that damn word again. "Nothing in this world can change that."

"Pete-"

"What the fuck, Patrick?" He leaned in closer. Too quiet for anyone but me to hear. "Don't you feel the same?"

"Of course." That didn't make me any less worthy. That didn't make the situation less fucked up. "Of fucking course."

"I don't know how much longer I have left, Patrick." What? Why the fuck was he saying that? He was better. "I don't want to die without the experience of being married to my soulmate."

"You're not gonna die." The panic couldn't be hidden from my voice. "You're getting better. The treatment Tyler's giving you-"

"Can't be legally given in the states." He finished for me.

"Then we'll go to Canada."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask."

"I won't make you give up your life here."

"And I won't let you give up your life at all." I shot back. What the hell was wrong with him?

"If I'm meant to get better, I will."

"Since when do you rely on faith? That's such bullshit. Don't blame destiny for your stubbornness."

"We can go back and forth all night."

"For what? I'm right and we're going to Canada."

"We'll discuss this later."

"No need."

"Look." He was exasperated. Good. So was I. "I don't know any other ways to show you or tell you how much you mean to me. I've never loved anyone to the point where I'd rather die than be away from them before. But I love you that much. So are you going to marry me or not?"

My mind blanked completely. Any thoughts I could have had, fled. Pete's words were the only thing in my head. Love. He loved me. He'd just directly said he loved me for the first time. He'd refused to say the words in college for obvious reasons. He avoided it when we were together for the second time. Even when he proposed. But now he was saying it. He was telling me he loved me and nothing else mattered. Of course I knew he loved me before but hearing it from his mouth was different. I must have blacked out for a while because Pete's worried voice was cracking through my mental rant.

"Patrick, are you okay?"

"That's the first time you ever said you loved me."

He chuckled under his breath. Rolling his eyes as if it were a joke. "Shut up."

"I'm serious."

His face hardened. "That's impossible."

So it wasn't deliberate. Was that better or worse?

"Trust me, it isn't."

"Oh my god. That's terrible."

"It's wonderful." I broke into a smile. The most genuine one I'd worn in some time. Embarrassingly the tears offered to join them.

"I've loved you. I don't know why I haven't said it."

"It's okay." Everything was okay. Nothing else he said mattered. All that mattered was him telling me he loved me.

He didn't look convinced. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." I laughed, wiping my face with my fingers. Ignoring the napkin right in front of me.

"So you'll marry me?" He held the ring out to me. It wasn't fully clean but it wasn't covered in food anymore either.

"Duh." I answered, despite the laundry list of reason I should say no. The ridiculous amount of reasons he shouldn't even have asked. I spread my fingers out so he could slip the ring on.

"Yeah?" His eyes widened.

"Yeah." I bit down on my lip. Nodding more than necessary.

"Baby." His chair pushed back quietly on the carpet. I stood up just in time to be squeezed into his hug. More people in the restaurant were staring at us now. Fuck them. I spotted our waitress smiling. I lifted my chin for a kiss and he obliged.

"I still have your other ring."

"Wear them both if you want."

"Do you have yours?"

Please say yes.

"It's in Canada."

"Well get it when we move."

"We're not moving."

"You're not dying on me again." I spoke in his ear. "I won't survive it this time."

"If you think I'll let death take me away from forever with you, you're insane."

"Shut up." We were moving and that was final. But I didn't want to have this argument tonight.

"I love you."

My face heated. "You said that."

"I know. But apparently I was too stupid to say it before. So I need to make up for lost time. I love you."

"I love you too."

There it was.

The guilt.

The actual shame of betraying the person I loved. Some one who loved me. It was all too much to handle right now. I was overwhelmed with too many negative emotions at once. It made me feel too full. The part of me that was trying to wan my own conscious tried to convince me that I wasn't that bad of a person. So I jerked off Ryan and he didn't know. But he slept with Tyler without tell me. Maybe we were both fucked up just enough to make this work forever. It was over now. The bad shit was done. No more cheating. No more screw ups. This could work. Please let it work. An involuntary sob racked my frame when I realized it just wouldn't.

"Don't cry." He cooed.

"Can we just leave?" My face hid in the crook of his neck. Messing up his dress shirt no doubt. "I want to be alone with you."

"Oh?" The suggestiveness almost made me smile.

"Not to have sex. I just need to be around you. Alone."

"Okay." His fingers rubbed my hair back. "I love you."

Music to my ears.

The climatic rhythm before the villain is slayed at the end of a film.

"I love you too."

A/N:
I don't know what this chapter is exactly. I don't love it. But I do love red velvet cupcakes and he make ice cream so there.