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I nod. “They were your favorite when we were kids. You asked for them for your birthday, and our parents always said—”
“Fireworks are for holidays,” she finishes. “And I said my birthday was a holiday.”
“Thought we could start a tradition for Emily. You and I moved around, but we were always under the same sky.”
She throws her arms around me.
I rest my head on her shoulder. “What’d you wish for, Mar?”
“That I can fit in here as well as you do.”
On my other side, Clay takes my hand and squeezes. I squeeze back and watch the lights dance across the horizon, each color blazing and shimmering and fading into the next.
“You did this.”
Clay’s murmur makes me turn toward him.
“I know. I got the fireworks.”
“No, I mean all of this. You stuck this group together. You came looking to put your family back together, and you made a whole new one.”
My eyes tear up.
“Oh! I almost forgot.” I rush to the fridge for a bottle.
I’m wrestling with the cork when I hear Clay come up behind me.
“What’s going on?”
“Need. The champagne. To celebrate.” I blow the hair from my face.
“Allow me.”
“I’ve got it. But thanks.” I grind my teeth together as I feel him behind me. “Can’t have the perfect celebration without—”
“I can’t do it.” His words are a groan. “I wanted to wait another night, but I can’t with you looking like this.”
I turn and find Clay on one knee on the tile.
One hand flies to my mouth. The other’s still gripping the bottle, my thumb on the cork.
“Nova, we always seem to have these moments at Harlan and your sister’s events, which is kind of fucked, but I can’t wait. You’ve been it for me since the day you sat in my seat.”
He reaches into his pocket and produces a box.
“You took a chance on me that day. You let me into your heart and showed me what it meant to have a life worth living.”
Clay flips open the box, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I’ve been chasing a championship ring my whole career. Lately, the only ring I can think about is this one.”
Inside is a ring with a pink diamond, so huge and bright it sends thousands of sparkling rainbows dancing over the cupboards and walls.
My lungs squeeze hard.
So do my hands.
The cork pops out of the bottle and hits the wall, champagne streaming out of the bottle and over my bare arms.
