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"Yes," Emrys adds, his voice is steady but his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows down his nerves.
We've talked about this moment more times than I can count, planned it out until it felt like we'd taken all the spontaneity out of it. But now, faced with the reality, the raw emotion of it all, no amount of planning could prepare us for the enormity of what we're about to do.
"Alright then," I say, smoothing down the front of my shirt for the umpteenth time. "It's now or never."
"Never's not an option," Wilder mutters, and we share a look that's equal parts terror and excitement.
"Let's go make some history," Emrys says with a determined grin.
With one final look towards Roger, who gives us a wide grin and waves us forward, we turn to Ethan. He gives us a barely perceptible nod before stepping into the heart of the bonfire's glow, clinking his drink against a metal chair to cut through the laughter and chatter of the Sharpe Clan. Heads turn, attention zeroes in on him, and the hum of the gathering dips down to an expectant hush.
"Family, friends," Ethan calls out, his voice carrying over the fire's crackle, "We've got something special tonight. And no, it’s not the chicken suit! That honor already went to Alissa’s new beau. Isn’t that right, Davey?” The man in question groans in shame, trying to hide beneath an identical yellow disgrace to the one I once wore.
Sorry, kid. That’s just the way it is.
As the chuckles from the Sharpe clan taper off, Ethan claps his hands. “Now where was I? Oh yes! There was a time not too long ago, and they might deny it until the day they die, but everyone who knows me knows that I had it right from the beg-”
“Oh shut up!” Annabelle stands, cutting off her husband with a playful glare. “You talk too much! Let go of the spotlight, baby. Boys?” She turns to us defiantly, daring us to back down.
I can feel every eye shifting to see who she’s looking at, wondering what's up.
This is it.
My stomach churns like I've swallowed live embers, but my feet are set, ready to walk the most important path of my life. Beside me, Emrys and Wilder are stone statues with thundering hearts–I can almost hear theirs in the same rhythm as mine.
I turn and there she is, meeting my gaze with those wide, questioning sea-glass eyes that always remind me of the place I fell for her. I take a step forward, and then another, each one steadier than the last as I close the distance between us.
"Kathryn," I say her name like a vow as I reach for her hand, her fingers warm and soft in mine. The world narrows down to just us, even with everyone watching. "You've turned my life upside down, in the best possible way." My throat feels tight, words thick with the weight of emotions that have been building up like a surge behind a dam. "You’re the most amazing woman in the world. Beautiful. Crazy. Strong. Wonderful. You’re my everything. I can't imagine a day without you."
Emrys steps up beside me, his own expression serious. He takes her other hand, holding it between his calloused fingers. "Kat, from the moment you crashed into my life, I knew you were trouble," he says, his voice laced with that warmth that always makes her laugh. "The kind of trouble I never want to be saved from."
Wilder moves to stand next to Emrys, his presence like a steady flame. "And you, Kat, you accepted me–us–with a heart so big, I reckon it's a wonder how it fits inside you." His gaze locks with hers, and even I can feel the sincerity rolling off him in waves. "You challenge me, you inspire me, and damn if you don't make every day brighter."
Her eyes are glistening now, reflecting the firelight, our faces, our shared history. There's a tremble in her smile, but it's strong, just like her. We're doing this–laying it all out, staking our claim not just on her heart, but on a future that's as unconventional as it is perfect for us.
"Kat." I squeeze her hand. "We've been through one hell of a ride, and we don't ever want to get off."
And with that, the three of us drop to one knee, the sandy ground gritty beneath our knees, as I flip open the lid with a flick of my thumb. The three large stones catch the bonfire's light, each facet winking like a star against the velvet night.
"Kathryn Sharpe," I start, my voice surprisingly steady given the jackhammer rhythm of my heart. Emrys and Wilder kneel beside me, a unified front in what's probably the most insane thing we've ever done. It feels right though, as right as anything has ever been.
Then in unison, we speak, just like we embarrassingly practiced for months so no one got left behind.
"Will you marry us?"
The question hangs in the air, a single note waiting for its melody. My throat tightens as I watch her, our Kat, the woman who's become the center of our universe. Her eyes widen, that iconic french-tipped hand flying to cover her mouth, a gasp unheard but felt by every last one of us.
Time seems to fracture, stretching out as if this moment might be caught in amber, preserved for eternity. Around us, the Sharpe Clan is motionless, their collective breath held, waiting, watching. Even the fire's crackle sounds louder, or maybe that's just the blood pounding in my ears.
"Kat?" I prompt gently, my future held in the balance of her answer, our hearts suspended in the abyss between questions and answers.
Kat cocks her head to the side, that mischievous glint I know all too well sparking in her eyes. "Are you guys sure about this? Because there's no returns or exchanges on this model," she teases, waving a hand down at herself as if showcasing the prize on some game show. Her laughter dances between us like a shared secret, light and free.
"Absolutely no refunds," Wilder quips back, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.
"Nor would we ever want one," Emrys adds, his voice thick with emotion.
We each hold our breath, waiting for her to drop the act and give us something real. But that's Kat—always turning life into her own personal comedy sketch until it's time to get serious. And when she does, she hits like a hurricane.
