I'm laughing and crying at the same time. "Complete idiots."
"Should've told you at that study session."
"Should've told you when you brought me snacks."
"Should've told you every single day since."
I bring my hands up to frame his face. "We're telling each other now. That's what matters."
"Yeah. Now and every day after."
I don't know who moves first, but suddenly we're kissing, and it's nothing like all the other kisses.
All those years of waiting and yearning are poured into one kiss.
"This is real," I say.
"Yeah."
"You really love me."
"So much."
"Me too. I love you too."
"Say it again."
"I love you."
"Again."
"I love you, Dean."
"I love you, Liz." He brushes his lips across my jaw. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt it. Or forget it."
"Okay, I'll hold you onto that."
"You're so beautiful," he says between kisses. "But you shouldn't cry in this dress, makes you actually look like a sad eggplant."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"No, I don't."
Dean kisses me again, slower this time but no less toe-curling.
"I love you," he says, breathless.
"You said that about fifty times in the last ten minutes."
"Making up for lost time." He kisses my forehead. "And I'm going to say it every day for the rest of our lives."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
My head is on his shoulder, hand over his heart, and his arms are around me, holding tight. His hand plays with my fingers, touching his grandmother's ring. The ring that I'm still wearing.
