Laurel swatted his arm but was grinning. "We've been waiting all year for this!"
"You all knew?" I looked around at the familiar faces—our friends, our community, all smiling and raising glasses in our direction.
"Small town," Bart murmured against my ear. "Can't keep secrets."
"Except you kept this one."
"I'm very motivated when it counts."
We settled back into our seats, Bart keeping his chair close, his arm never leaving my waist. "I can't stop staring at it," I said, turning my hand to watch it sparkle in the candlelight.
"Good. That was the goal." His lips brushed my temple. "I wanted you to have something as beautiful as you are."
"Sap."
"Your sap now."
Dinner arrived—filet mignon that I barely tasted because I was too busy staring at my ring and at Bart and trying to process that this was real. We were getting married. I was going to be Candi Kane.
Actually, that sounded amazing.
After dinner, we stepped outside into the softly falling snow. Main Street was quiet now. The tree sparkled in the town square, lights reflecting off fresh powder.
Bart pulled me close, both of us watching snow fall beneath the streetlights.
"A year ago tonight," I said, "we were standing in that church, Drew making a scene, your whole identity getting exposed."
"I remember thinking my life was over."
"And now?"
"Now I'm thinking my life is just beginning." He turned me to face him. "Really beginning. With you."
I reached up to cup his face, fingers trailing through his silver hair. "I love you so much, Bart Kane. Thank you for seeing me. The real me. For helping me find myself again."
"Thank you for crashing into my life and refusing to leave."
"Technically you forced me to stay. The whole 'help with my charity or I'll sue you' thing."
"Best negotiating I've ever done."
A year ago I'd been desperate, lost, always worrying about what other people thought of me and forgetting who I was.
Now I was engaged to the love of my life in a town that felt like home, doing work that changed lives, surrounded by people who knew and loved the real me.
I wasn't performing anymore. Wasn't curating content or chasing viral moments or obsessively tuning in.
I was just living. Really, truly living.
And it was better than any sponsored post or collaboration deal or carefully crafted influencer moment could ever be.
"Merry Christmas, Candi Kane," Bart murmured against my lips.
I grinned. "I like the sound of that. Candi Kane. Has a nice ring to it."
"Terrible pun."
"You love my terrible puns."
