His name dissolves on my tongue, carrying every version of the woman I’ve been, and I hear all of them in that single breath.
“Alycia…” He steps toward me slowly, like he’s walking into church. “Say something. Please.”
But I can’t because there’s a look on his face I’ve never seen before. A mixture of devotion, fear, joy, and something so fierce it steals every piece of air left in my lungs. He’s holding the ring as if he’s holding his entire life in the palm of his hand. And I realize noneof this is a surprise. Of course, this moment is happening in the place where everything between us cracked open.
I take one shaky step forward, lifting a trembling hand toward his face, fingers barely brushing his jaw. When I touch him, he shudders like he’s been waiting a lifetime for that simple yes.
“Alycia, please tell me you’re with me. Tell me you want this. Tell me you want… us.”
I swallow hard, my thumb tracing the faint stubble along his cheek. He’s warm beneath my touch, unbearably warm, and the softness in his expression almost brings me to my knees.
Then the truth spills out, not loud but honest. “I don’t know how to do any of this without you.”
“I’m here. I’m always right here. Always.” He lowers his forehead to mine, whispering against my skin. “Marry me.”
The words settle over me like a promise I never thought I’d get to hear as a breath stumbles out of me, and I finally find my voice. “Yes.”
Kyle freezes in relief so powerful it looks like it nearly buckles his knees. “Yes?”
“Yes,” I say again, firmer now, fuller. “Kyle Hendrix, I will marry you.”
He makes a sound, a deep, guttural exhale that feels like it’s been waiting eighteen months to escape. And before I can say another word, his mouth is on mine. It’s a collision—messy, breathless, hungry—with the full force of every emotion we’ve carried, every momentwe’ve survived, and every truth we’ve finally stopped running from.
His hand cups the back of my neck, drawing me closer until our bodies are pressed together, the ring box wedged between us. I gasp against his mouth, and he swallows the sound like it belongs to him. The elevator hums around us, small and warm and suddenly too full of everything we are. He breaks the kiss only long enough to frame my face in both hands, eyes shining in a way that makes something inside me break beautifully.
“I love you,” he says, voice rough. “God, I love you so much I don’t know what to do with it.”
“I love you,” I whisper, brushing my lips against his.
His eyes soften with something reverent. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“You keep kissing me like that, and you’ll never find out how fast I can completely fall apart in your hands.”
“Oh, I already know,” he whispers, and his mouth finds mine again, and we sink into each other, tasting laughter and tears, the slide of breath, the pull of something vast and permanent settling between us.
By the time he pulls back, I’m trembling. He presses a kiss to my forehead, then my cheek, then the corner of my mouth. “Hold still and let me do this right.”
He slips the ring from the box, his fingers brushing mine as he slides it onto my hand. It fits perfectly, like it’s always belonged there. I look down at my hand, breathing unevenly.
“Oh my God.”
“Say you like it.” Kyle watches my expression of awe, softening every line of his face.
“I love it,” I whisper, leaning up and kissing him again.
When I pull back, he cups my jaw, brushing his thumb over my cheek.
“You know,” I murmur, voice unsteady but full of a heat I can’t quite hide, “this is going to cost you.”
“Cost me?”
“Mm-hmm.” I tap his chest with one trembling finger, trying to regain even a shred of composure. “Fifty bucks.”
For a heartbeat, Kyle just stares at me, and then he laughs in the way that always makes my knees go weak.
“Fifty bucks,” he repeats, stepping closer, sliding his hands around my waist with a reverence that contradicts the teasing edge in his voice. “Best fifty dollars I’ve ever spent.”
The elevator suddenly lurches—the emergency stop disengaging on its own—and the doors slide open. Kyle takes my hand, lacing our fingers together as he whispers, “Ready?”
