“Your brother just gave us his blessing,” he says quietly. “Made this real in ways that matter to both our families.”
“Are you okay with that? With being officially tied to the Vances?”
“I’m okay with anything that keeps us together. You, me, and the boys. That’s all that matters.”
I tilt my head up and kiss him, grateful to my brother for protecting our future, grateful for this man who fought a war to get me back, grateful for the family we’re building despite everything that tried to tear us apart.
43
CASSIAN
Finn and Liamare finally asleep after three bedtime stories, two glasses of water, and one emergency trip to the bathroom that was definitely just a stalling tactic.
I’m standing in Aurelia’s doorway watching her brush her hair at the vanity, and the ring in my pocket feels like it weighs ten pounds.
“You’re staring,” she says without turning around.
“I know.”
“Something on your mind?”
Everything. The proposal I’ve been planning for three weeks, the words I’ve rehearsed that now feel completely inadequate, the fear that maybe it’s too soon, even though we’ve been building toward this since the moment we met six years ago.
I cross the room, and she sets down the brush, turning to face me. She’s wearing pajamas and no makeup, and her hair’s still damp from the shower, and she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Marry me,” I say, because apparently I’ve forgotten all the rehearsed words and I’m just going with my gut now.
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“Marry me. Not because of the alliance or politics, or because Julian thinks it makes sense. Marry me because I love you, and I want you as my wife, and I want to build a life with you and our sons.”
I pull the ring from my pocket. Simple band, single diamond, nothing flashy because that’s not who she is. I had it made three weeks ago when I realized I wanted this more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
“Cassian—”
“I know it’s fast. I know we’ve only been together a few months, if you don’t count the years we spent apart. But I don’t want to wait anymore, and I don’t want to pretend this is temporary when we both know it’s not.”
She’s staring at the ring, at me, back at the ring. Her mouth is open, but no words are coming out.
“Say something,” I tell her. “Preferably yes, but even no is better than silence.”
“You want to marry me.”
“More than anything.”
“We have two kids together and you’ve never actually taken me on a real date.”
“I’ll take you on a hundred dates. A thousand. Whatever you want. Just say yes first.”
She stands up and moves closer, taking the ring from my hand and studying it like she’s memorizing every detail. Then she looks at me and there are tears in her eyes but she’s smiling.
“I spent six years running from everything I felt because I was scared. Scared of you, scared of what loving you meant, scared of letting you into my life and the boys’ lives because I didn’t think we could survive it.” She slides the ring onto her own finger, testing the fit. “But we survived anyway. We survived everything that tried to tear us apart, and we’re still here, still fighting for this family we’re building.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes. I’ll marry you. Not because of alliances or politics or because my brother thinks it’s a good idea, but because I love you and I’m tired of being scared of what that means.”
I pull her close and kiss her, and she kisses me back with both hands in my hair and her body pressed against mine. When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
