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“Is this real, or is it all for the pictures?” she asks, looking utterly bewildered. “I don’t understand anything.”

“Selene,” I say calmly, even though there is nothing calm about the storm tearing through me. I take her left hand in mine, feeling the delicate tremor running through her fingers. “I never even admitted to myself that I wanted to end up here with you,” I begin, watching her stand trembling in front of me, her attention fixed entirely on my face. “I never thought I’d actually have the chance to have you in my life. And ever since you became mine, all I can think about is the day you’d have to decide whether you wanted this too. Forever.”

A shaky breath catches in her throat.

Her free hand presses over her mouth again as she struggles to contain her sobs, tears continuing to slide down her cheeks no matter how hard she tries to stop them.

Even if I couldn’t feel her trembling through my grip, I’d see it in every part of her. Her shoulders quiver. Her chest rises and falls unevenly. Her fingers curl around mine as if she needs something solid to hold on to.

“I’ve been in love with you since before we started dating,” I confess with a quiet chuckle, looking directly into her eyes, letting the confession settle between us, giving her the time to absorb everything I’ve kept buried for so long.

“And the thought that I couldn’t have you used to drive me insane. There’s no going back for me.”

A broken little gasp escapes her when I lift my injured hand and slide the ring onto her finger, pushing it halfway and stopping there.

“Selene Diaconescu, will you marry me?”

Finally.

I’m asking the question that has consumed my days, my hours, my minutes, my seconds. The question that has kept me restless for days, but especially throughout these last few hours.

“Will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my forever? My woman, my girlfriend, my wife, the mother of my children?”

Whatever control she had left shatters.

She cries uncontrollably now, looking at me like she can’t believe this is happening.

“Zayn,” she breathes my name like a gust of wind.

Then she grabs my hand and pulls, urging me to stand, and the next second she throws herself entirely into my arms.

“Yes,” she shouts. “Yes, yes, yes…”

The final yes echoes across the pier.

A laugh breaks from me, full of relief and emotion, as I wrap my good arm around her and hold her close. She looks up at me through tear-filled eyes, and we both smile, the kind of smile that comes from finally reaching something we’ve wanted for far too long.

Somewhere behind us, applause erupts, followed by cheers and whistles.

White confetti explodes through the air, filling the space around us as petals scatter in the breeze. Everything becomes noise and movement and light, but through all that chaos, I hear only her voice.

“I love you with all my heart, and every single day I kept thinking about how much I wanted to be your wife…” She hugs me, burying her face in my neck and pressing soft kisses there. “But I didn’t want to bring it up first. Or say something that would make you feel pressured.”

“Jesus, Sel.”

“I’m the happiest woman alive.”

She cups my face with both hands and rises onto her toes to kiss me.

“I want to be yours forever.”

Then she deepens the kiss, and once again, everything around us disappears.

I only feel her in my arms.

I only hear her breathing against mine.

I only smell her perfume—the one I’d recognize anywhere, anytime.