Her gaze drops to her stomach, hand pressing gently there. “I want children. A family.” I lift her chin with my fingers, her eyes meeting mine and she continues, “I want that with you, but?—”
“No buts, Row.” My voice is steady, certain. “Never again. I want all of it. With you.”
She hesitates, searching my face. “I know you’re the kind of man who’ll always do the right thing. But I don’t want you staying because I’m pregnant.”
“Rowyn.” I cradle her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing away the stray tears. “I’m not staying because of the baby. I’m choosing this. I’m running toward it. Toward you. I’ve wanted all of it for longer than I knew how to admit. I was just…” My voice catches.
“Scared,” she whispers, finishing the sentence for me.
I nod. “Yeah. But not because I didn’t trust you. I trust you more than anyone. I was scared of losing you if you didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t know what you really wanted. This…” I gesture between us. “It started as a pretend thing so you could get hot coffee guy’s attention. But then suddenly, you were all I could see. And I didn’t know if I was good enough for you. I was still stuck in old hurts and broken trust.” I swallow hard. “But being with you…every moment…it healed something in me. You healed something in me.”
Her eyes soften, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Can I make a confession?”
“I want nothing but the truth between us.”
“I fell in love with you the day you carried me off the playground.”
A stunned laugh escapes me, full of relief and love. “God, I love you, Rowyn. I want us to be a family. I should have told you weeks ago.” I take a breath. “I want you to be my wife.”
Her eyes shine, a smile breaking across her face. “I love you too, Jaxon.”
I pull her into my arms and kiss her with everything I am—every fear, every hope, every shattered piece reassembled in this one moment. When I finally rest my forehead against hers, her eyes are still closed. Peaceful. Glowing.
“What happened after the prince saved Rapunzel?” I ask quietly.
Her lashes lift, and she gives me a wicked smile. “Why don’t we get you out of those wet clothes…and I’ll show you.”
Epilogue
Rowyn
* * *
I stand before the man I love, under the warm glow of the fairy lights strung overhead, Rip officiating our wedding with that half-serious, half-sarcastic grin that only he can pull off. The Strip outside the floor-to-ceiling windows glows like a river of stars. Our friends are gathered in a loose circle, all cheering with eyes that shine just as much as mine. I’m certain that if I take one more breath, my heart might burst from the sheer force of joy.
This isn’t our official wedding. There’s no cathedral-length veil, no towering floral arrangements, no string quartet. Just a simple dress I grabbed from the boutique this afternoon—flowy, casual, something I didn’t think twice about because all I cared about was standing here with him. Jaxon’s in a pair of tailored pants and a crisp white button-down, sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone because he refused to be uncomfortable while pledging his soul to me. He looks like everything I never dared to ask for.
Perfect.
When we get back to Snowberry Falls, where our families live, we’ll have the formal ceremony. The big wedding, as his mother calls it. The one with the full guest list, the white dress, the aisle, the champagne toast. The one that will make the town gossip pages explode. We promised them that when we called earlier—our voices shaky, our hearts steady.
Of course, my dress will have to be a maternity one. That thought fills me with excitement. After testing positive, I went straight to the doctor. My IUD had shifted. It was immediately removed and fortunately for us, there were no complications, and I’m able to carry to term.
Was my mother devastated? Absolutely. She cried. Not quiet tears either—full-on, theatrical wailing like I’d just confessed I was moving to Mars. But I took a breath, steadied myself, and politely told her this was my dream. That I was in love. And that Jaxon was nothing like my father.
Silence followed. Then, something miraculous. She exhaled, shaky, almost surrendering. In the end, she conceded, not because she agreed with my choices, but because she finally understood. What else could she do? If she wants to be a part of our lives and her grandbaby’s life, she has to accept that I’m stepping off the path carved for me long before I knew I could say no.
That I’m changing careers. That I’m becoming a stay-at-home mom—which, deep down, I’ve always wanted—and that I’ll write books while the sound of tiny feet runs through our home. People will judge my choices, my timeline, my leap into love, my decision to marry quickly and unconventionally. But I say, let them talk. None of it matters to me anymore.
Yes, I’ve done a lot of growing these last few months. Facing fears, unpacking childhood scars, opening my heart, trusting someone fully. Letting go of the idea that love means sacrifice. It’s been messy and healing and beautiful. And I owe so much of it to Jaxon. To the steady way he loves. And to the new girlfriends who taught me what true supportive friendship feels like.
What it means to belong.
When it’s time to read our vows—the ones we scribbled on the back of an airplane napkin between turbulence and whispered laughter—I go first. My hands shake as I unfold the wrinkled paper. I think of all the versions of me who led to this one, standing at the edge of forever.
I speak. And in front of the man I love, and the family we’ve found in this perfectly imperfect group of people, I pour my entire heart out. I talk about the girl who built walls out of fear and the woman who finally let them fall. I talk about how Jaxon climbed my tower, with both grace and stubbornness, and how he taught me that love isn’t something you guard—it’s something you live in.
When I’m done, Jaxon’s eyes are suspiciously bright, and somewhere behind us, someone sniffles loudly. Probably Jaylynn. Or possibly Penn. You never know with hockey players.