I let that sink in. It's not perfect. It doesn't erase what happened or how terrified I felt. But it's acknowledgment. It's consequences. It's people trying to do better.
"Okay," I say finally. "Okay."
Logan pulls me closer and presses a kiss to my temple. "You get to decide how you feel about this. If you need space from those guys, if you never want to see them again, that's valid. But I wanted you to know they're not just pretending it didn't happen."
I nod against his shoulder, feeling the last knot of tension unravel. The situation was terrifying, but it wasn't swept under the rug. That matters. That matters a lot.
The committee seems to sense the shift in mood because they're all watching with varying degrees of sympathy now instead of just gossip-hungry excitement.
Before anyone can say anything else, Xavier does something that makes my heart stop.
He slides off the bed and drops to one knee on the hardwood floor.
The room goes dead silent. Even Emma's mouth falls open, which is a genuine Christmas miracle.
"Savannah," Xavier says, voice steady despite the emotion in his dark eyes. "We hurt you. We let pride and fear make our decisions, and we almost lost the best thing that ever happened to us."
Logan and Griff exchange a look. Then they move to flank Xavier, both dropping to one knee beside him.
The committee gasps like they're watching their favorite soap opera's season finale.
"We don't have a ring," Griff says, his usual cocky grin replaced by something vulnerable.
"But we have this." Xavier reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a soda can ring that's been carefully cleaned and shaped into something resembling jewelry.
"You've got to be kidding me." I stare at the makeshift ring. "A soda can ring? That's your grand romantic gesture?"
"Will you marry us?" Logan asks, gray eyes intense enough to melt steel. "All of us? Will you let us spend the rest of our lives proving we're worthy of you?"
The silence stretches. Someone, probably Carol Anne, sniffles. The matchmaking committee looks ready to explode from excitement.
I look down at these three ridiculous men kneeling on the floor, offering me a ring made from trash and their hearts on silver platters. This is insane. This is impractical. This is everything I never knew I wanted.
"Yes," I whisper, then louder, "Yes, you absolute disasters, of course yes!"
The room explodes. Beverly Hartwell actually whoops. Rose Kim claps politely. Carol Anne starts crying while muttering about celestial alignment. Linda Sue clutches her pearls so hard I'm worried she'll break the string.
Emma launches herself at all four of us in a tackle-hug that nearly sends us tumbling off the bed. "This is the best wedding gift EVER! You're getting married at MY wedding!"
"That's not how weddings work..." I start, but I'm laughing and crying and completely overwhelmed.
"Actually," Beverly interrupts, consulting her clipboard with the expression of a general planning military campaigns, "Father McKenzie is still here. It's raining so the guests can't leave yet. The ice is melting but the roads aren't safe. We can have a double ceremony."
"We don't have a dress," I point out, because apparently I'm determined to be practical during my fairy tale moment.
A new voice pipes up from the doorway. "Oh, honey, I've been eavesdropping, and I have ideas."
Mrs. Lee, the tiny seamstress who performed miracles on Emma's dress, pushes through the crowd carrying what looks like a professional sewing arsenal. At seventy-three, she's barely five feet tall but has the presence of someone who's conquered fabric for fifty years and isn't about to let emergency wedding planning defeat her.
"Emma's backup dress," she announces, holding up a gorgeous gown. "Same size, different style. I can have it fitted in an hour."
"This is insane," I say weakly, but I'm already picturing myself in that dress.
"This is ROMANTIC!" Linda Sue practically shouts. "A double wedding! During a blizzard! With handmade rings!"
Emma bounces on the bed like a five-year-old on Christmas morning. "Please, Sav? Pretty please? I'll never ask for anything again!"
"You literally asked me to hide your mother's guest list additions yesterday."
