He shoots my brother an exasperated look before walking toward me, his expression softening.
“Happy birthday, Red.”
I adjust my bed so that I’m sitting more upright, my belly impossible to ignore now, and accept the bouquet of lush roses that he offers.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmur, lifting them to my face and breathing deeply. After months inside these walls, even the faintest hint of nature feels overwhelming. “Thank you.”
“Don’t forget the cake,” Zale says, handing the box to Gabriel.
Gabriel rolls my tray table closer and sets the box down in front of me, opening it to reveal a moss-green vintage-style cake with a handwritten message across the top.
Pact Rules.
I frown. “What does that mea?—”
The words die in my throat as I look at Gabriel who is no longer standing, but kneeling next to my hospital bed instead, a small leather box in his hand, flipped open to reveal the most breathtaking marquise-cut diamond I have ever seen.
“Eighteen years ago,” he begins, voice already shaking, “you and I made a pact that if neither of us were married by the time you turned thirty, we’d marry each other.”
My vision begins to blur but I quickly swipe at my eyes because I refuse to miss this.
“We haven’t exactly had a smooth ride getting here,” he continues, a shaky laugh escaping him. “If anything, it’s been a full-blown rollercoaster. But no matter what’s happened, and no matter how far we’ve drifted, we’ve always found our way back to each other.”
He’s right. There were so many chances for him to walk away. During his tours, when distance stretched us thin, when he thought I was back together with Paul McIntosh after he moved back to Saltwater Springs, and when I finally told him about Gabriella and everything shattered open between us.
Over and over, he chose me, just like I’ve always chosen him. It has always felt inevitable, like the universe kept pushing us apart just for us to prove we’d come back stronger.
“I’m so excited to bring these beautiful babies into the world with you,” he says, glancing at my stomach before looking back up at me. “And I cannot wait to leave this damn hospital—” I laugh through my tears “—and finally live in a little house with our little family.”
My lip trembles when I see his eyes gloss over too.
“So,” he swallows hard, “Zalea Evans, will you follow our pact rules and do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
Tears begin to stream down my face as I nod. “Yes,” I gasp. “Yes. Of course I will.”
His grin is blinding as he slides the ring onto my finger.
“Perfect fit,” I whisper, staring at the massive, sparkling stone.
Gabriel leans forward, wrapping his arms around my stomach as best as he can, and kisses me softly.
“Alright, alright,” Zale interrupts. “I had to stop recording. No one wants footage of your gross hospital makeout.”
I burst into laughter as he walks over and hands Gabriel his phone. “I took pictures too,” he mutters. “You’re welcome.”
Then he looks at me, his expression softening. “And congrats, sis. I expect to be your Man of Honour.”
The idea makes me laugh again, and I nod. “Deal.”
Satisfied, he wishes me a happy birthday one more time before announcing he has a hot Italian date to get to and I watch him leave.
“Ready for cake?” Gabriel asks, lifting the box and carrying it to the small table near his pullout bed.
“You don’t need to ask me twice,” I say, admiring my ring again. “Yes, please.”`
He cuts two slices and brings them over. I scoot over so he can sit beside me, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders so I can lean against him instead of the pillow.
I take a bite and immediately groan.
