"I've known," I tell him, "since that first night under the stars."
We sit there, newly engaged, watching clouds build over mountains that were once just a photography assignment and are now our future. My fiancé. Our home. Words I never imagined would fit so perfectly.
"We need supplies,"Wyatt announces the next morning. "Town day."
The prospect of going to town together feels significant. Last time I left this mountain, rangers and angry parents were involved. This time, I'll return with Wyatt by sunset, our truck loaded with supplies for our shared life.
The drive down takes almost an hour, the truck bouncing over rough roads. Wyatt holds my hand when he doesn't need both for steering, his thumb occasionally brushing over my new ring.
The town looks different now—not a gateway back to my old life but simply a place where people like us get necessities. We move through the general store, gathering food and household items. I notice how people nod at Wyatt, their curious glances at me now tinged with recognition.
Wyatt translates a look from the woman behind the counter. "Mrs. Perkins wants to know if we need flour."
"We do," I say, amazed at how easily he reads the locals.
Mrs. Perkins adds flour to our growing pile. "Mail came for you, Emma," she says, disappearing into a back room. She returns with an official-looking envelope. "Started forwarding here last week, like you asked."
I accept the envelope with a flutter of surprise. "Thank you."
Outside, loading supplies into the truck, Wyatt notices my distraction.
"What's that?"
I examine the return address. "It's from the photography contest I entered before..." I pause. "Before I came home to you."
His eyes soften at my choice of words. Home. With him.
"Open it, baby."
I tear the envelope carefully, my heart hammering in my chest, sliding out a formal letter. My eyes scan the text, widening with each sentence.
Oh my God. Is this for real?
"Wyatt." My voice comes out strangled. "I won."
He chuckles and pulls me to him. "Of course you did, baby."
"First place. Overall." I can barely speak. "They want the photo for their annual showcase. There's a cash prize of ten thousand dollars, plus a five-thousand-dollar camera equipment packageand—" I have to stop and breathe. "And an all-expenses-paid trip for two to photograph the Alps."
Wyatt's face breaks into that rare, full smile that transforms his features. He lifts me off my feet in an embrace that spins us in circles right there in the parking lot.
"I knew it," he says against my hair. "I knew you were brilliant."
When he sets me down, I'm dizzy with more than the spinning. "You're not surprised?"
"That you won? Not even a little." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Which photo was it?"
I check the letter again, though I already know. "The one of you. Looking at the stars that first night."
"Me?"
"You." I touch his bearded cheek. "The judges said it captured 'the profound human connection to wilderness.' They have no idea how right they are."
He kisses me then, right in front of the general store, unconcerned with the townspeople who might see. When we finally break our kiss, both breathless, Mrs. Perkins is watching from the doorway with an approving smile.
"We should celebrate," Wyatt says. "Get something special for dinner."
We add wine and ingredients for a proper feast to our supplies. The entire drive home, I can't stop looking at the letter, the ring, the man beside me—all pieces of a life I never dared imagine.
