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As if by gravitational pull, my legs moved, propelling me in that direction. I’d been tempted to this spot before, but since the following morning, after Nolan and I got together, I hadn’t touched Father Simon’s chronicle. Putting it back on the shelf, I’d only looked at it, remembering.

Someday, I would tell Nolan. When the time was right. But for now, that chapter of my life was closed.

I stared at the spine, remembering Dr. Hensley's words about blood memory and souls seeking their mirrors. The book hadn't just shown me other versions of Nolan. It had shown me the truth I'd been too afraid to see in my own time. Rowan's devotion, Riven's intensity ... they weren't fantasies I needed to escape into. They were reflections of what already existed, waiting for me to stop hiding in stories and start living my own. Father Simon had been right. The heart knows its mirrors across time. Mine had been standing beside me all along.

There are places where devotion bends time itself. When two hearts echo the same vow, the veil thins, and one may walk where another once wept.

Rowan’s recitation of Father Simon’s words came back to me periodically. He had uncovered something, a phenomenon that needed to be studied. One I would eventually, possibly, explore with Dr. Hensley. But for now, I’d told him the bookshop kept me busy, and then if I freed up some time I would come by with the book.

But not today.

Scurrying back out to the front room, I caught Nolan mid-bite. “Guess what’s in here?” I asked, lifting the takeout container up for his inspection.

He finished chewing.

“Not the surprise I was hoping for,” he teased.

Laughing, I put the cake in front of him. “This will have to do.”

He opened it. “Thought you’d never give it to me.”

That was the very last response I expected. About to ask what he meant, I stopped when Nolan leaned down, as if to inspect the cake. “Strange. Looks like there’s something in there.”

“What?” I pulled it toward me, not seeing anything.

“Look closer.”

Nolan was right. There was a piece of … what the heck was that? I put the cake onto the counter, maneuvered the plastic fork into it, and…

No way.

My head whipped up to Nolan which is when everything happened at once. I noticed the baby wipe in his hand and a gathering crowd, including my parents, and Charlee, outside the shop’s picture window.

Nolan took the engagement ring from me, wiped off the cake and frosting, and bent down to one knee. “Lena, my little vixen, I’ve loved you my whole life. Will you spend the rest of yours loving me back?”

For someone usually terrible at making decisions, this one was easy. My body felt as if it were floating as I allowed Nolan to take my hand. “Yes. One thousand percent, yes.”

The cheers from outside Between the Pages and Nolan’s bear hug, followed by a kiss that lingered probably too long for my parents’ comfort, enveloped me like a warm, weighted blanket. Engaged to my best friend. Every version of him better than the one before it.

I was a lucky girl.

“But how?” I asked, the logistics of his proposal baffling me.

“My mother was there for lunch with her friends. She texted to ask if I wanted a piece of cake. My first thought was, yes. My second was you mentioning you grabbed a salad at Casa Bella for lunch. I’ve had this,” he lifted my hand, “for a week, trying to find the perfect way to ask.”

And that was the end of our quiet moment. Suddenly the shop was filled with more people than most probably had at their engagement. Hugs and congratulations followed, but only before Charlee and Mazzie popped open bottles of Prosecco.

“I never did tell you,” Charlee said at one point. “Our idea for your wedding date, did I?”

She looked at Nolan.

“No way?” I asked.

“Yes way.” She lifted her class. “Cheers to your good taste.”

Mazzie joined us. “You guys did all this since lunch?”

“The benefit,” Mazzie lifted the bottle in her hands. “Of owning a bar just down the street.”