He nods.
The leather cord has hung around my neck for years—sweat-worn, soft, familiar. It’s stupidly sentimental, and he knows it. I pull it off and hand it to him.
Ollie threads the ring onto it, pushes it to the center, and loops it around his neck. The sight of my ring resting against his chest hits me so hard I have to blink.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
He meets my eyes. “Yeah. Same.”
We’re quiet again. Not awkward—just full. Overflowing.
He steps close, cups my jaw, and kisses me once, slow and deep, like he’s trying to memorize my mouth. I hold him there, kissing back until I feel him melt, until I know neither of us wants to break away.
But we do.
We have to.
He pulls back an inch. “I’ll text when I land in Phoenix.”
“And I’ll text after the meeting,” I say.
“Your big deal.”
“Your big tournament.”
We smile like idiots.
At the door, he hesitates again, searching my face. Then he says the words I will never tire of hearing. “I love you.”
Soft. True. No haze.
It knocks the air out of me.
“I love you too,” I whisper, pulling him in for one last kiss that tastes likegoodbyeandsee you soonanddon’t fucking forget me.
Then he’s gone.
The room feels wrong without him. Quiet in a way that scratches at my nerves. Sheets still smell like sweat and sex and him, and part of me wants to crawl back in and live there until the scent fades.
Instead, I let out a breath, drag a hand through my hair, and force myself into motion.
If I stay here, I’ll unravel.
So I grab clean clothes, head to the shower, and text the guys.
Me: Breakfast? Now? I need grease and coffee before my life changes.
My phone lights up immediately with a string of chaotic replies.
Good.
Distraction.
Because I might be about to sign a record deal. Because I might be about to build the life I’ve wanted forever. Because I married a man who feels like destiny.
And because somehow—God help me—we’re going to make all of it work.
Simpson Cole has been talkingfor at least ten minutes, but it only hits me now—really hits me—when he places both hands flat on the paperwork in front of him and says, “Three weeks.”
