Because this wasn’t just a proposal.
It was a promise. That I would never leave. Never falter. Never fail her again.
“Thought I might find you standing here, overthinking everything.”
I turned to see my father walking up, a knowing smile on his face.
He looked more relaxed these days. Happier. Retirement suited him — especially now that he had grandkids to dote on. He looked between me and Liz, then back again.
“You look like a man who’s holding something important in his pocket and an even bigger question in his heart.”
I exhaled. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“You begin by taking a breath,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “And then you trust her.”
“Idotrust her. With everything. That’s not the problem.”
He tilted his head. “Then what is?”
“I just—” I looked away, jaw tight. “I’ve done things. Things she’s forgiven but maybe shouldn’t have. And now… we have this life, thesekids,and I’m scared that I’ll mess it all up. That I’ll become what I swore I never would.”
My father’s face softened. “You’re not him, Noah.”
“I know. But sometimes it feels like the ghosts are still on my heels.”
“Then let them chase you,” he said. “But don’t let them make your choices.”
I swallowed hard.
“She loves you,” he continued. “Not because you’re perfect. But because you’re hers. And she’syours.That’s what love is, son — a decision to stay. A decision to fight for the good days and hold on during the bad ones. You’ve both already fought more battles than most do in a lifetime.”
He looked toward Liz, his voice lower.
“And now you get to choose peace.With her.So don’t waste time being afraid of a future you’re meant to build.”
I stared at him, my throat thick.
Then slowly… I nodded.
He gave me one last pat on the shoulder before stepping back toward the others, and I stood there for a long second, the box still in my hand.
Then Liz turned — sunlight catching the green and blue of her eyes — and smiled at me.
God.
I’d never seen anything more breathtaking.
I stepped forward, and this time, I didn’t hesitate. The soft chatter and laughter of our families drifted behind me as I stepped away from the house, my hand slipping into Liz’s. The twins were nestled safely with their uncles and aunts, their tiny breaths steady in the quiet nursery we’d set up.
I glanced down at her—her face illuminated by the soft glow of the fading afternoon sun, her eyes reflecting the pale pink petals swirling gently around us.
“Come with me,” I said, voice low, almost a whisper.
She didn’t hesitate. Together, we walked beneath the cherry blossom trees Lillian had planted years ago. The petals carpeted the path like fragile dreams, drifting around us like blessings.
Every step I took, I couldn’t stop looking at her. The way the light caught the unusual dance of her eyes—one blue, one green—pulled me under every single time. I was lost there. Completely, utterly lost.
I stopped walking, turning fully to face her.
