The kiss tastes like salt and relief, and every tomorrow we're going to build together. My hands frame her face, thumbs brushing away her tears even as my own fall. I feel my whole body trembling, seven years of running and fear and guilt cracking open to let in something I didn't think I deserved.
Her arms wrap around my neck, and she holds on tight. Anchoring me. Choosing me. Saying yes to all my broken pieces and jagged edges.
When we finally break apart, my forehead rests against hers. My hands stay cupped around her face like I'm afraid she'll disappear if I let go.
"I love you." My voice is wrecked, barely holding together. "I stayed for you, and it was worth everything."
"I love you too." Her hands slide into my hair, gripping tight. "Thank you for staying. For fighting. For choosing me every single day."
"Always." I kiss her again, softer this time, but no less intense. "Always you."
We stand there wrapped in each other while the sun dips behind the mountains and the valley comes alive with lights below. Stars begin to emerge overhead, one by one, and I think about how a week ago I sat in my truck outside her bookstore, paralyzed by fear.
Now I'm holding my future wife.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I ignore it.
It buzzes again.
Elorie laughs, the sound breaking through the emotion thick in my throat. "You should check that."
I pull it out reluctantly. Grant's name lights up the screen.
"How does he always know?" I mutter, but I'm smiling as I answer and put it on speaker. "What?"
"Finally." Grant's voice comes through warm with satisfaction.
"Finally what?"
"Took you long enough. Did she say yes?"
I stare at the phone. "How did you—"
"Because you told me you’ve been carrying that ring around, and I know my little brother."
Elorie's laugh turns into a snort, and fresh tears track down her cheeks. I pull her closer against my side.
"She said yes," I tell him, and my voice cracks on the words.
"Good." Grant's voice warms. "I'm happy for you, Brooks. You deserve this. You both do. Welcome to the family, Elorie."
"Thank you." Her voice is thick with emotion.
We say our goodbyes, and I pocket the phone. Elorie looks up at me, her eyes still shining.
"Emma's going to love you," I say.
"I hope so."
"She will. Everyone will." I cup her face again, thumbs tracing her cheekbones. "My fiancée."
I test the word, and it settles warm in my chest. My voice drops to that possessive rumble I can't control around her. "My future wife."
"Your everything," she whispers.
Mine. The word growls through my chest, primal and satisfied. She's wearing my ring. Saying yes to my name. Choosing my life. Mine.
