“Everything,” I repeat, firmer this time. My heart is pounding. “You didn’t hurt me. You… you showed me how much I mean to you. And that… that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He swallows hard. The tension in his shoulders eases, just a fraction, and I feel a tiny spark of hope flicker between us. “But your job…your future.”
“Everything will work out.” In my heart, I believe that.
“I… I just…” His voice falters. “I thought I’d ruined everything. I thought I wasn’t enough.”
“You’re more than enough,” I say, gripping his hands. “You’ve always been enough. You just didn’t see it yet. And now… now I want you to see it too.”
“Your dad came to see me. He told me you were responsible for getting me called up. You…you saw my worth…you saw me.”
“I see you, Penn.”
“I see you too, Jaylynn.” His lips quiver. His eyes shine with tears, and I feel my own spilling over. We stand there for a moment, letting the weight of everything pass between us—regret, fear, love, hope—all tangled together.
And then, slowly, he leans forward. I don’t pull back. Our foreheads touch, and it feels like the world has narrowed down to just this. Just us. Then he inches back and holds his hand out, and my gaze goes to the snow globe in his palm.
“What is this?”
“I got this for you… for Christmas.” He holds it out, shaking it gently so I can hear the soft swish of something inside. My eyes catch the snow falling over the country club inside the globe.
“You once said you wanted to bottle that night,” he murmurs, his voice low.
A laugh escapes me, bubbling up before I can stop it. Not because it’s funny, far from it. It’s the most thoughtful, ridiculous, perfect gift I’ve ever received. But when I tilt it, peek through the glass, my chest tightens. There, glued carefully to the back, is a picture of us. Just us. From the night he had dinner at my parents’.
“You did this?” I whisper, incredulous. “You glued us on there.”
He grins, that easy, crooked smile that has me melting from the inside out. “You don’t like it?”
I shake my head, tears threatening to spill over. “I love it… Penn. I love it so much.”
He steps closer, the warmth of him brushing against me, and I can’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips. “Good,” he says softly. “Because I love you.”
“I love you too,” I reply, my voice breaking as emotions well up inside of me.
And in that moment, standing in the quiet of our peppermint-themed room, I don’t know what our future careers hold, but as long as we have each other, that’s all that matters.
I feel him shift slightly in my hands, and then he hesitates, pulling the small velvet box from his pocket. My breath catches.
“Penn…” I murmur, heart hammering so fast I can barely speak.
He swallows hard, eyes flicking to mine, searching, needing permission, and I nod. He opens the box. Inside rests my grandmother’s delicate diamond, small but brilliant, catching the light in the dim glow of my room.
My hands fly to my mouth. “Oh… oh, Penn…”
“Your dad also gave me this.” He swallows again, voice low. “I want to spend the rest of my life proving that I’ll protect you, care for you… love you. Always.”
Tears spill down my cheeks as I stare at him, at the man who would fight the world for me, at the man who finally sees himself the way I’ve always seen him. “Penn… I, this…” My words falter, but the meaning is clear. I love him. I want him. I always have.
He swallows and lets the box hover between us. “You… you don’t have to answer now. I just needed you to know how much you mean to me.”
I step closer, closing the space between us. My fingers brush his, gripping the edge of the box. “Penn… The answer is yes. It’s always been yes. Yes, I want this. I want you.”
His eyes go wide, and then, finally, a smile breaks across his face. Genuine, shaky, but radiant. Relief floods him, and it hits me how much he needed that affirmation as much as I needed him.
He leans in slowly, pressing his forehead to mine as he slides the ring on my finger. “I love you,” he whispers again.
“I love you too,” I whisper, then admire the ring on my finger. “I also have a present for you.”