“Wait,” she whispers.
I open the box. An emerald-cut diamond, it almost blinds me and the smugness in me is soaring.
“I was going to memorise this,” I say, my voice trembling despite myself. “I had this whole speech planned. It was structured and calm and probably very impressive.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, tears already gathering at the edges of her eyes.
“But I keep thinking about you walking into my classroom,” I continue. “The way I immediately knew that you were going to take over my life.”
My throat tightens but I push through it.
“You make me braver. You make me softer in the right ways. You call me out when I am wrong and you hold me when I cannot say what is wrong. You are the first person I want to tell everything to. The good. The bad. The stupid little things that would not matter to anyone else.”
She is crying openly now. Not quietly. Not politely. Tears slipping down her cheeks, her hands trembling against her lips.
“I do not want a life where I come home and you are not there,” I say. “I do not want big moments without you beside me. I do not want to celebrate anything if I cannot turn and see your face first.”
The sun dips lower, casting everything in deep amber light. The wind lifts her hair slightly around her shoulders.
“I love you,” I say, the words steady now despite the shaking in my chest. “Not in a temporary way. Not in a holiday way. Not in a way that changes when things get hard. I love you in the way that chooses you. Every day. Even when it is messy. Even when we are tired. Even when we are arguing about nothing.”
I swallow.
“Adaline, will you marry me?”
There is a second where the world feels completely silent. Then she is laughing and crying at the same time.
“Yes,” she says immediately. “Yes. Obviously yes.”
Relief crashes through me so hard I almost lose balance. I let out a breath I did not realise I had been holding for weeks. I slip the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. Her hands are still shaking as she looks down at it, then back at me like she cannot quite believe this is real. I stand and she pulls me into her before I can say anything else.
She kisses me like she did in that locker room years ago. Not hesitant. Not delicate. Her hands grip the back of my shirt and she presses close like she needs to feel every part of me.
“I cannot believe you,” she murmurs against my mouth. “Florence. A vineyard. You dramatic idiot.”
I laugh into her kiss, my own tears finally slipping free.
“You deserve dramatic,” I say.
She pulls back just enough to look at me. Her eyes are red and bright and completely wrecked.
“I was going to propose next year,” she admits breathlessly. “You beat me.”
“Good,” I smile brightly.
She kisses me again, softer this time. Slower. The kind of kiss that leaves me breathless. Behind us, the sun glows. The hills stretch endlessly outward.
But I barely see any of it.
All I see is her.
CHAPTER NINE
The Wedding
ADALINE
The morning doesn’t feel dramatic.
