Tears are streaming down her face now, and I can barely see through my own. “Will you marry me?” The words come out raw and desperate, but I don’t care. They needed to be said.
For a moment, she just stares at me, her hands still covering her mouth, tears tracking down her cheeks. The silence stretches so long I start to panic, start to think I've fucked this up spectacularly, that it's too soon, too much, too—
“Yes.” The word is so quiet I almost miss it.
“What?”
“Yes,” she says again, louder this time, nodding frantically. “Yes, Jamie. Yes, I'll marry you.”
Tiff laughs through her tears, that soft, broken sound that’s always undone me. I pull her closer, careful not to jostle Ella, and she buries her face against my neck. Her shoulders shake, and I don’t know if it’s from crying or laughing, or both.
I hold them—my girls—and for the first time in years, no—in my fucking life—everything feels right.
Not borrowed.
Not temporary.
Just ours.
Ella stirs, letting out a sleepy hum, and Tiff reaches down to smooth her hair. I watch her do it, that gentle, motherly instinct that never stops, and I swear my heart could break from how much I love her.
She glances back up at me, eyes still shining. “You know,” she whispers, “you didn’t have to ask me tonight.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, brushing a kiss to her temple. “But I wanted to, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned…” My throat tightens. “You don’t wait to hold on to the good things. You fight for them.”
Her lips curve. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m done pushing you away.”
I smile against her mouth as I kiss her again, slower this time, deeper. The TV goes blank in the background, but neither of us move to turn it off. Ella’s hand is small and warm where it rests over mine, the three of us tangled together on this worn old couch that somehow feels like forever.
And for once, my future doesn’t scare me.
I know exactly where I’m going to be.
By Tiff’s side, raising our daughter.
How it always should’ve been.
Epilogue
7 Months Later
Ilook both ways down the hall before I raise my knuckles to the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Just a second!” Tiff says from the other side, and damn, just hearing her voice has my dick hard.
Not my fault. We spent all of last night at the rehearsal dinner, drinking and dancing. All the foreplay I could ask for, but then we were forced to go to separate rooms.
She opens the door, and I catch my breath.
“Fuck me,” I breathe. “Forever and always.”
She's in a little silky white robe. “You're not wearing a bra,” I state matter-of-factly. Can't help it. My brain is malfunctioning just taking her in.
“Jamie!” Her eyes go wide. “You're not supposed to see me before the wedding. It's bad luck.”
“I've already had all the bad luck I'm ever going to have. Besides, I didn't want you finding out without me.”