But it's not all pain here. I feel a deep sense of gratitude towards her brother. While I'd change his death if I could, I'm also aware that he brought Katya and me together. I don't know that either of us would've gotten the help we needed or would've ever been able to take a chance on letting someone else in, had we not met here at Mikael's funeral.
Nine months ago, I owed him my life, and today, I owe him my heart. I never knew the appeal of having people who cared for me, a true family. Petr and Katya changed that this year. I can't stop thinking about what life will be like with her.
Eventful. That I know, but in the quiet moments when we're alone, it's more peaceful than I've ever known. I love that she's so passionate and speaks her mind and even that her way of beating me and showing up the war effort will end up helping out service members who need it.
I love how good she is and how much sweetness she hides from the world. These are my secrets, and it's a privilege to be one of the only people in the world who knows this about her.
She stands and waves at me.
I approach and slide an arm around her waist.
Katya leans into me, nestling her head beneath my chin with a deep sigh.
"This is where we met," she whispers.
"I know." I circle my other arm around her, enjoying the weight of her body against mine. It's an honor to be the one she seeks support from, one I will cherish for as long as she'll have me. "He would be so proud of you, Katya."
She's silent. Her breathing is uneven, a sign she's crying.
I hold her, and we stand quietly.
My Katya recovers quickly and moves away from me. Whispering a farewell to her brother, she entwines her fingers with mine and wipes her tears away.
We leave the cemetery and are halfway to the house when she takes a deep breath and eyes me.
"You're not even going to really propose, are you? Just assume I'll give you a place and time to show up?"
"Pretty much. I figure when you're ready, you'll let me know."
"You really are serious." Her eyes widen, and she faces me.
"Yeah."
We gaze at one another. I'm trying to gauge her reaction. There are too many emotions to know what's going through her mind.
"You won't change your mind?" she whispers.
"No."
Another minute passes with her studying me. "I'll have to tell Petr what to wear. He's got no fashion sense," she murmurs.