CHAPTER 24
Marry Me?
I wake to sunlight filtering through the curtains and reach instinctively for Zayn, but my hand finds only cool, empty sheets. My eyes snap open. His side of the bed is vacant, the covers pulled smooth the way he always does. I spot something white on his pillow—a folded note with my name on it. Time stops as I grab it.
Cliffside Trail. Sunrise.
Bring Mia. -Z
Eight simple words. No explanation, no fancy love letter. But those words make my pulse race with anticipation. I check the time—5:47 a.m. Sunrise is in approximately twenty minutes. If I hurry, I can reach the overlook as the sun breaks the horizon.
I throw the covers back and leap out of bed, immediately stubbing my toe on the nightstand. I hop around cursing while yanking open drawers. What does one wear to a mysterious sunrise meeting? Is this casual? Is this significant? My mind spins while my hands grab leggings and Zayn’s black hoodie thatI’ve claimed as mine—the one that still smells like him even after washing.
I call for Mia while twisting my hair into a messy bun. She appears in the doorway, tail wagging like crazy. “Want to go for a walk?”
She wiggles her entire body and bolts toward the back door, nails scrabbling on hardwood. I shove my feet into boots, grab my phone and keys, and chase after her.
The morning air feels cool and damp on my face, with that fresh feeling that only comes at dawn. Dewdrops glitter on the grass in our backyard like scattered diamonds. Mia races ahead to where the trail begins at our property line—the direct route to Cliffside that was a major selling point when Zayn bought this house.
“Slow down, girl,” I laugh, trying to keep pace. My thoughts race. Why today? What makes today special?—
Then it hits me. It’s been exactly one year since Zayn returned to Bellrose. One year since I saw him at The Daily Grind, devastatingly handsome in his charcoal suit, and my entire world tilted on its axis.
The path climbs steadily, morning mist making everything look ethereal and dreamlike. The world seems quiet and magical, like it’s holding its breath waiting for the day to begin. Mia trots ahead, glancing back now and then to ensure I’m following. My legs burn from the climb, but I barely notice. Each step brings me closer to Zayn and whatever surprise awaits at our special place.
Wild roses have taken over the cliffs now, cascading pink and purple blooms spilling down the rocky sides. I touch a petal wet with morning dew as I walk by. I could think of all kinds of flowery ways to compare these roses to our love story, but honestly, what’s happening right now feels better than any romance book I’ve read.
As I round the final bend, my heart beats fast with excitement. The bench comes into view—our sanctuary where we’ve spent countless hours this past year talking, healing, and rebuilding what we destroyed.
And there he is.
Zayn stands beside the bench, silhouetted against ocean and sky, looking solid and real and utterly perfect. The early light makes him appear almost unreal. He’s wearing jeans and my favorite black henley, the one that makes his blue-gray eyes look like storm clouds. When he sees me, he smiles, and my knees still go weak exactly like they did when I was eighteen.
“You made it,” he says softly, his voice barely disturbing the peaceful morning.
“Your note wasn’t exactly detailed,” I say, slightly breathless from the climb. “A specific time would have been helpful.”
He laughs and reaches for my hand, pulling me close. That’s when I notice he’s arranged a picnic on a blanket beside the bench—a pink box of pastries from The Daily Grind, a thermos that must contain coffee, and my favorite mug from home with the delicate roses painted around the rim.
“What’s all this for?” I ask while Mia runs circles around us, tail wagging manically.
Zayn guides me to sit beside him on the bench, our thighs touching. “Do you know what today is?”
“Tuesday?” I say, feigning ignorance even though I figured it out during the hike.
His mouth quirks. “One year ago today, I walked into The Daily Grind and saw you for the first time in five years.” He captures my hand, his fingers warm despite the cool morning air. “You turned around, spotted me, and immediately fled.”
“Such a romantic memory,” I tease, but I’m smiling too.
“It was the moment everything in my life finally made sense again,” he says simply.
His raw honesty makes my chest ache. I rest my head on his shoulder and watch the sun begin its ascent over the horizon. The sky transforms to gold and rose, those colors reflecting brilliantly on the ocean below us.
“Hungry?” he asks, reaching for the pastry box.
“Starving,” I admit. I realize I bolted from the house without considering breakfast at all.
We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, sharing bites of cinnamon roll and sipping coffee from the same mug. Mia settles at our feet, content that we’re all together. The sun climbs higher, warming our faces and making the wild roses shimmer.
