Holly: We love you too. Now go knock 'em dead.
At two p.m. exactly, the caterer arrives.
I meet them at the door, clipboard in hand, ready to supervise the setup. But watching them transform Ethan's dining room into an elegant space makes the reality of what I've accomplished sink in.
I did this.
I coordinated this.
I made this happen.
"Looking good," Ethan murmurs, coming up behind me.
"It's coming together."
"Because of you." His hand settles on the small of my back. "You should be proud."
"I will be. Once it's over and nothing has caught fire."
He laughs softly. "Fair enough."
The florist arrives at three with the most stunning arrangements I've ever seen. White roses and peonies mixed with greenery, exactly as I specified.
It's breathtaking.
"Lily." Ethan's voice is thick with emotion. "This is incredible."
"You haven't even seen the best part yet."
I lead him to the gift table where I've set up the two wrapped boxes. The necklace is in a white box with lavender ribbon. The books are sitting next to the cream paper with gold accents I’m about to wrap them up in.
"These are perfect," he says quietly.
"Open them. Make sure everything is right before your family gets here."
He carefully unwraps the necklace first, opening the velvet box.
The Irish tree of life pendant gleams in the light, each birthstone carefully placed. Ethan's sapphire. Claire's aquamarine. His father's pearl. His mother's opal in the center surrounded by everyone else’s.
"This is..." He swallows hard. "She's going to cry."
"Good tears?"
"The best tears." He hands me the box and I carefully put the ribbon back around it. "Thank you. This means more than you know."
Then he opens the book. The first edition of Pride and Prejudice is even more beautiful than I remembered. Then he picks up the second book. It’s not as fancy, just a paperback but it's the signature on the title page that makes Ethan's breath catch.
To Claire, a fellow lover of romance and resilience. May you always find your happy ending. - Lydia Hartley
"I wasn’t sure this would get done." He looks at me. "In that short amount of time! I’m impressed."
"I told you. I don't give up easily." I fidget with my hands. "Is it okay? I know I took some liberties with the personalization, but?—"
He pulls me into his arms, cutting off my rambling with a kiss that steals my breath.
When we break apart, we're both smiling.
"It's more than okay," he says. "It's perfect. You're perfect."
