Page 129 of Wicked Ruin

So I do.

When Seamus pulls back up to the flat, Declan is on the front step, waiting, his arms folded, his eyes finding me the second the car door opens. He does that. He always does that. I used to think it was just how he was—watchful and careful, accounting for everyone in a room.

Now I know it was never everyone. It was always me.

Seamus gives me a nod when I get out. Then he steps out of the car and heads inside with the box of food, and it's just me and Declan.

Declan looks at me curiously, as if to make sure I survived his older cousin’s interrogation or whatever else we discussed. “You alright? Do I need to risk my life and confront Seamus, or…”

I smile at him. “I’m grand, Declan. Aye.”

He closes the door, and the noise of people moving things inside fades.

I turn around and look at him properly.

“Declan, I—” I bite my lip, think about what to say, then blurt it out all at once. “He told me. Seamus. He told me everything. What you did. What you promised.”

Declan goes very still. He doesn't speak. His jaw moves, just slightly.

I step toward him. “You kept me alive. You kept me here. And you never said a word, not once, not even when I—” My throat closes. I force it back open. “Not even when I told you to let me go. You just kept showing up.”

He exhales through his nose.

“I told you,” he says quietly.

“You didn’t, Declan. You never⁠—”

“Didn't I though? I told you I love you.”

My heart.

He closes the distance between us in two steps, and his hands come up to frame my face. He tilts my chin up the way he always does, unhurried, like we have all the time in the world. His eyes are very bright. “I would do it again,” he says. “Every single part of it. Do you understand me? I would do it a hundred times.”

I press my lips together hard because I will not cry again, not today.

“I know,” I whisper.

“Good.” He presses his forehead to mine. We stand there for a moment, just breathing, his thumbs moving slow across my cheekbones.

Then he pulls back and reaches into his pocket.

I stare, my heart thumping madly.

“I've been carrying this around,” he says, his voice soft, “because I kept waiting for the right moment, and then things kept exploding.” The corner of his mouth pulls. “Literally, the last time.”

Then he opens his hand. It's a ring. Simple, clean, exactly right, crafted in gold and sparkling diamonds. I stop breathing.

“I’m not waiting any longer, and I’m not standing on ceremony.” His eyes hold mine with utter sincerity. His face blurs in front of me as I blink away tears. “Bridget Kavanagh. Will you marry me?”

I sniff. “You know I will,” I manage. “I thought you'd never⁠—”

He slides the ring onto my finger before I've finished the sentence.

Then he grabs my hand, walks to the door, pulls it open, and holds my hand up like I'm a trophy he's just been awarded.

“She said yes!”

Down the hall, Colm drops something but lets out a curse of approval. Seamus makes a sound that might be a laugh. Cavin's voice carries from somewhere: “About damn time.”