“I was thinking,” she says carefully, like she’s reciting lines she’s practiced. “That maybe... you could be that person. For real. Forever.”
I can’t breathe.
“Maisie—”
“Not like a pretend mom or a sometimes mom.” She slides off her chair and comes around the table to stand next to me, and that’s when I notice movement out of the corner of my eye.
Zayden. Pushing back from the table. Lowering himself to one knee.
My heart stops.
“A real one,” Maisie continues, reaching for my hand. “The kind that stays.”
Zayden pulls a small velvet box from his pocket, and Maisie steps aside, her job done, grinning like she just pulled off the world’s greatest heist.
“She’s been practicing that for three days,” Zayden says, his voice rough. “Wouldn’t let me help. Said she had it handled.”
I laugh, but it comes out watery. “She did.”
“My turn now.” He opens the box. The ring catches the light—a stunning oval diamond on a gold band. It’s bigger and more beautiful than anything I would have picked for myself. “Tori, I had this whole speech prepared. About how you walked into my life and everything started to make sense. How you made me want to be better—for you, for Maisie, for myself.”
“Zayden—”
“But she’s right. You’re already our family. And I know this is fast, but I’m not confused about where this is going. Not even a little.” He reaches for my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I want to watch you build your clinic into something incredible. I want to be the one by your side through all of it.”
His eyes are bright, and I realize with a start that he’s close to tears too. This man who guards everything, who holds the world at arm’s length—he’s kneeling in front of me with his whole heart on display.
“I’m all in, Tori. I have been since the beginning.” His voice cracks slightly. “So will you be my wife. Be ours—forever?”
“Say yes!” Maisie whisper-shouts from somewhere behind him. “You have to say yes!”
I’m crying. Full-on ugly crying, tears streaming down my face, and I don’t even care. I look at this man—this stubborn, guarded, impossibly tender man who fought for me when I was too scared to fight for myself—and I wonder how I ever thought I could walk away from this.
“Yes.” The word comes out thick and watery. “Yes, of course yes.”
His whole face transforms. That rare, real smile breaks through as he slides the ring onto my finger—and it fits perfectly, because of course it does; he pays attention to everything.
Then he’s on his feet, pulling me up with him, and his mouth finds mine in a kiss that tastes like tears, promise, and finally.
“Group hug!” Maisie barrels into us, wedging herself between our legs until we break apart laughing. “I did good, right? I didn’t mess up my lines?”
“You did perfectly, little shadow.” Zayden scoops her up with one arm, keeping the other around me.
Later—after dinner and ice cream and cleanup, after Maisie finally falls asleep; and after we’ve migrated to the couch with the lights low and my head on his shoulder—I look at the ring on my finger and try to remember the last time I felt this happy.
I can’t. Because I’ve never felt this happy.
“Do you like it?”
I glance up. “What?”
“The ring.” He’s watching me with an expression I can’t quite read—nervous, almost. “It’s an oval cut, just over two carats. The band is platinum with pavé diamonds—that means the little ones on the side. The jeweler said the clarity is—”
“Zayden.”
“—VS1, which is apparently very good, and the color is—”
“Zayden.”
