His jaw tightens, a flicker of pain in his eyes. "But we didn't go."
A sharp ache blooms in my chest, heavy and familiar.
He swallows hard. "Now I know why. I know I'm the reason it all fell apart after that. But for years, Caroline, I couldn't stop replaying it—the night that never happened. The words I never said. It haunted me." He shakes his head, a soft, broken laugh escaping him.
"I'd give anything to go back and do it right—to not be the idiot who ruined the best thing that ever happened to him."
He brushes his knuckles gently along my jaw, voice turning tender again. "So this—tonight—it's not just your do-over. It's mine too. My second chance to make it right. To rewrite what should've been the start of our story."
My throat tightens, and I can't tell if it's from the lump forming there or from the way he's looking at me—like I'm something he's been aching for years to hold again.
"Zach..."
He exhales slowly, his hand still on my cheek, thumb grazing my jaw like he's memorizing every inch.
"Back then, I wanted to ask you to be mine. And when I lost you, I thought I'd never get the chance again."
He shakes his head, smiling faintly, the kind of smile that feels like a bruise and a kiss all at once.
"But here you are—standing in front of me, at prom, just like how I dreamed about. Wearing the same dress, looking even more unreal than I remembered."
I can feel my pulse everywhere—wild, unsteady, alive.
His voice softens, the edge of a tremor threading through it. "So I'm asking now—three years late, and probably in the most over-the-top way possible—but I don't care. Because this time, I'm not letting the moment slip by." He leans in just enough that our foreheads touch, his breath mixing with mine.
"Be my girlfriend, Caroline. Be mine," he says gruffly.
"No maybes, no waiting this time. Not halfway—not almost. I want everything—the good, the bad, the stubborn, the soft. Every fight, every laugh, every part of you that drives me insane and keeps me coming back. I want the labels, the jealousy, the chaos. I want you. Every damn piece of you. Because I can't—" his voice catches, raw, "I can't stand another day of wanting you like this—without the right to say you're mine."
For a second, I can't even breathe. My heart's gone full kamikaze in my chest.
I let out a shaky laugh, eyes stinging. "You really know how to ruin a girl's mascara, you know that?"
He grins, voice low and teasing. "So that's a yes?"
I nod, smiling through the blur. "That's a hell yes."
His smile breaks wide, like sunlight after a storm, and before I can even blink, his lips are on mine—soft, sure, and absolutely devastating in the best way.
And just like that, the night I'd spent years dreaming about finally feels real.
Zach Westbrook is officially—finally—my boyfriend.
The thought barely settles before the room erupts into cheers and applause around us. But do we stop? Not even close.
His kiss deepens, wild and consuming, like he's trying to steal the very breath from my lungs just to prove he can. Every second stretches and burns, blurring into something infinite.
His hand fists in my hair while the other anchors me by the waist, holding me close enough that I swear even the air between us surrenders.
It's overwhelming—too much, too good—like gravity itself decided to give up on us.
And while the crowd keeps cheering, we stay there, shameless, devouring each other like the world might end if we stopped.
Zach pulls back just enough for our foreheads to touch, his breath still brushing my lips. His voice drops low—raw, certain, and impossibly tender.
"I love you, Caroline.MyCaroline..."
Three little words that feel like fireworks detonating right beneath my skin. My heart stumbles, trips, then races ahead like it's trying to catch up to everything I'm feeling.
