That had been a throwaway line in the quiet comfort of his arms, the gaudy ring glinting accusingly from the bedside table. I could hardly believe he remembered.
“I did,” I said. My voice came out barely audible.
He swallowed. “I’m not asking you to marry me,” he said. “Not yet, at least. I am asking you to let me prove that I deserve to be your man.”
He reached into the inside pocket of his tux jacket, fingers fumbling, and pulled out something small and silver.
A gum wrapper. Folded and twisted into a tiny, imperfect ring.
All I could do was stare. The foil caught the twinkle lights overhead, bright and ridiculous and charmingly beautiful.
“This is not a metaphor for how much money I have,” he said quickly, a cheeky huff of a laugh escaping. “When you’re ready, I’ll walk into a jeweler and buy something that needs its own insurance policy, but that’s not the point. You said you wanted something that felt like you. Once you know how serious I am about showing up for you, we’ll talk.”
I grinned at this charming, confident version of Wes that stood in front of me.
The cameras were clicking nonstop now. My eyes blurred, turning the whole world into soft halos of light around the man in front of me.
“This is all I have today,” he said, voice shaking. “A promise and a gum wrapper. I’ll keep doing the work.”
He looked at me, eyes clear and sure in a way that made my own heart ache.
“Will you let me stand next to you?” he asked. “In these photos. In that studio with the terrible carpet. In whatever life you choose. Scared, if I have to be. But here. Really here.”
Air rushed back into my lungs on a shaky inhale.
I thought about the chapel and the dress and the way I’d stood there waiting for someone else to tell me who I was. I thought about his stairs and his fall and the way he’d used his fear as armor until it had pierced both of us. I thought about Kit’s couch and the empty storefront on Main and my name on glass.
Mostly I thought about the man in front of me, hands trembling around a gum-wrapper ring because he was trying so hard to meet me where I’d drawn the line.
My chest hurt in that sharp, stretching way that meant something inside it was making room.
“Yes,” I whispered, and then louder, so there was no way he could miss it: “Yes, Wes. I love you.”
His eyes closed like he was taking the words all the way in. When they opened again, his gaze was bright and damp and so full I had to bite my lip.
A startled laugh broke out of him. Relief. Wonder. Something wild and young.
He slid the gum-wrapper ring over my knuckle with ridiculous care. The foil was cool and a little crinkly against my skin. It settled crookedly at the base of my finger, catching the oak’s twinkle lights and throwing them back in tiny flashes.
It weighed virtually nothing.
It felt like everything.
I stepped closer until the front of my dress brushed his legs. My free hand slid up his chest, over the crisp line of his lapel, to the warm skin at the back of his neck.
“I’m not asking you to never be scared,” I said. “I’m asking you to let me be there when you are. We do it together, or we don’t do it at all.”
His breath hitched. “Together,” he said.
“Good,” I whispered. “Because they’re definitely taking pictures right now.”
A wet laugh choked out of both of us.
“Then let’s give them a show,” he said, and then his mouth was on mine.
The world narrowed to the press of his lips, the slide of his hand around my waist, the way he hauled me in like he was afraid I might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. Ikissed him back, fingers in his hair, gum-wrapper ring digging lightly into his neck. A camera clicked in a rapid-fire staccato somewhere beyond us.
Someone whooped. It sounded suspiciously like Kit. Another cheer rose near the barn—Elodie, probably, because she lived for a good romantic spectacle.
Snow crunched under his shoes as he shifted to balance us both. The oak lights glowed above us. My dress fanned out around our feet in a ridiculous circle of lace and tulle.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was standing in the middle of someone else’s picture.
I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Kissing my ridiculous, stubborn, strong man under an old oak tree, a gum wrapper sparkling on my finger, the shutter catching frame after frame of the moment we finally chose the same future.
Ours.