"Our place," I agreed, my heart hammering so hard I was sure she could hear it.
She was beautiful in the afternoon light, her hair catching hints of gold, her green eyes bright with curiosity, her cheeks flushed from the cold. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to do a lot more than kiss her.
But first, I had a question to ask.
"This spot holds our entire history," I said, stopping beneath the oak tree. "First kiss at seventeen. The day I almost broke your heart. The day you refused to let me push you away." I turned to face her fully. "I wanted to add one more memory to it."
"Miles?" Her voice was uncertain now, a flicker of something, hope, maybe, or fear, crossing her features.
I reached for her hands, held them in mine. My fingers were trembling, but I didn't try to hide it.
"Fifteen years ago, I made the worst mistake of my life." My voice came out steady, despite the earthquake trying to escape my body. "I chose fear over you. I chose my father's blueprint for my future over the only future that ever really mattered."
"Miles—"
"I have spent every day since regretting it." I squeezed her hands, willing her to see the truth in my eyes. "Every single day. I built the career they wanted. I married someone appropriate.I checked all the boxes. And I was miserable, Charlotte. I was empty. Because none of it was what I actually wanted."
Tears were gathering in her eyes, but she didn't look away.
"What I wanted was you." My voice cracked. "It was always you. From the moment I saw you when we were seventeen, it was only ever you."
"Miles, what are you?—"
"I'm not done." I smiled through my own tears. "I need you to hear this."
She nodded, her lip trembling.
"I wasted fifteen years without you, regretting the past. And then I got a second chance, a miracle I didn't deserve, and I almost threw it away again." I shook my head. "I tried to push you away. I told you that you deserved better, that I would only hurt you, that loving me was a mistake."
"It wasn't a mistake."
"No. It wasn't." I released one of her hands, reached into my pocket, and pulled out the velvet box. Her breath caught audibly.
"Charlotte Huston." I lowered myself to one knee, carefully, mindful of my balance, but I made it. "I am done being afraid. I am done choosing anything over you. I am done wasting time."
I opened the box. The ring caught the light, the emeralds gleaming like her eyes.
"I can't promise you a perfect life. I can't promise that my Parkinson's won't get worse, or that I won't have bad days, or that this will be easy."
I looked up at her, letting her see everything, every fear, every hope, every ounce of love I'd been carrying for longer than I could measure.
"But I can promise you this: I will choose you. Every single day, for the rest of my life. I will choose you over fear. I will choose you over pride. I will choose you over everything else in this world."
The tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now, but she was smiling, that radiant, sunrise smile that had haunted me for fifteen years.
"You are my home," I said, my voice breaking. "You are my heart. You are everything I ever wanted and was too stupid to fight for. And I am asking you, here, in the place where our story began, will you marry me?"
She didn't answer with words.
She dropped to her knees in front of me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me with everything she had. I tasted salt, her tears or mine, impossible to tell anymore, and hope and joy and finally...
"Yes," she gasped against my mouth. "Yes, Miles. A million times yes."
The relief that flooded through me was so intense I nearly collapsed. My hands were shaking violently as I took the ring from the box, not from Parkinson's, but from the overwhelming magnitude of this moment.
"Give me your hand," I managed.
She held it out, laughing and crying, and I slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
