"The first time we came here, I did have a panic attack. A small one."
"You hid it well."
"I've had practice."
We sat in comfortable silence, watching Sarah crouch at the water's edge, utterly absorbed in something she'd found. After a moment, I took a deep breath.
"I've been thinking," I said, my voice barely audible over the falls. "About the future."
Cole turned to look at me, his blue eyes attentive.
"I don't want to just visit your cabin on weekends anymore," I continued. The words felt huge, momentous, terrifying in the best way. "I want to build a life together. A real one. I love you, Cole. I love Sarah. I want to be part of your family. Officially."
He was quiet for a long moment. Long enough that my heart started to race with doubt.
"I kept waiting for you to change your mind," he finally said, his voice rough. "Every morning I woke up wondering if this was the day you'd decide it was too hard."
"I never did."
"I know." He shook his head slowly, almost to himself. "I'm still getting used to that."
"Is that a yes?"
"Emma." He turned to face me fully, his rough palm coming up to cup my cheek. "I've been ready since the night you climbed that mountain for Sarah. I was just waiting for you to be ready too."
"I'm ready," I whispered. "Still scared sometimes. But ready."
"Scared is fine. Scared is human."
"I talked to my principal about going part-time next year," I rushed on, the plans tumbling out. "And I've been looking at houses. Not in town, not all the way up on your ridge. Something in between. A place with a yard for Sarah, closer to school, but where we can still see the stars. Both our worlds."
A smile broke across his face—the real one, the one that made his eyes crinkle and years fall away from his features. "You've been house hunting?"
"Is that weird?"
"It's perfect." He leaned in and kissed me, soft and sweet and full of promise. "You're figuring out how to meet me in the middle, that's exactly what I've been hoping for."
"Emma! Uncle C!" Sarah's voice cut through the roar of the waterfall. "I found a frog! A real one! Come see, you have to be quiet!"
I let her small, urgent hand pull me from the rock. We crouched together at the water's edge, the damp seeping through my jeans, and there it was, a little green frog perched on a stone, its throat pulsing rhythmically.
"Isn't he cool?" Sarah whispered.
"Very cool."
"I'm gonna name him Frederick."
"That's a very dignified name for a frog."
"He looks dignified."
The frog, apparently unimpressed by his new name, hopped into the pool and disappeared. Sarah sighed dramatically.
"He'll be back," I said. "Frogs like their spots."
"How do you know?"
"Tommy told me. He's our class frog expert."
