His proposal landed in my chest and bloomed there, filling every hollow space I’d ever carried. This man. This life. This future stretching out before us, full of possibilities I’d never dared to imagine.
“You showed up and refused to leave.” My voice broke. “You made me believe I was worth staying for.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”I laughed through the tears streaming down my face. “Yes, of course yes.”
He slid the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, as if it had been made for me.
Then he pulled me off the sofa and into his arms, and I kissed him with everything I had. Joy and relief and love so fierce it almost hurt. He held me tight, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other splayed across my lower back, and I felt our daughter kick between us—as if she knew something important had just happened.
“Hey there, little one,” he said, resting his hand on my belly. His eyes widened when she kicked again. “I guess you approve.”
When we finally broke apart, we were both laughing. Crying a little too. The kind of messy, happy tears that came from getting everything you’d ever wanted.
“We should call your mother,” I said.
“She’s going to lose her mind.”
“I know. That’s why we should call her first.”
He grabbed his phone from the coffee table and dialed. I pressed close to his side so I could hear, his arm wrapped around me, my left hand resting on his chest where I could see the ring catch the firelight.
Lucia answered on the second ring. “Mijo?Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s perfect, Ma. Isabel and I have news.”
“What kind of news?”
Kick looked at me, his eyes bright. “She said yes.”
The shriek that came through the phone made us both wince and laugh. I could hear Lucia crying, words tumbling out in a mix of English and Spanish too fast to follow.
“My baby,” she finally managed. “My last baby, getting married. Oh,mijo. Your father would be so proud. He would be so, so proud.”
I thought of Kick’s father, the man whose presence I felt in every story his children told. The patriarch who had built this family, whose legacy lived on in his sons and daughter.
“Thank you, Lucia,” I said, leaning toward the phone. “For raising him. For welcoming me.”
“Mija,you are my daughter. You always will be.”
We talked for a few more minutes—about the ring, about the proposal, about when we might have a wedding—then Lucia insisted we call the rest of the family before they heard the news from someone else.
Snapper answered on the first ring. “Tell me you finally did it.”
Brix offered quiet congratulations and said he looked forward to welcoming me officially. Bit made a joke about Kick finally growing up, then said how happy he was for us. Cru said he supposed Snapper would be the best man, even though he should be, since he’d named him.
“What do you mean?” Kick asked.
“Rascon. It was my idea.”
“I’ve never heard that story before.”
Cru laughed. “That’s because it isn’t true. I just thought maybe it would get me the best-man gig. I’ll settle for groomsman, though. Unless you want me to officiate.”
“Are you ordained?” I asked.
“No, but I think you can do it in like a day.”
