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If I thought the crowd had been pumped before, it had nothing on this. Their reaction was electric, the fans erupting into a frenzy of excitement, positively losing their minds.
Gray hesitantly edged onto the stage, shielding his eyes from the blinding spotlight. Even from the dozen feet that separated us, I could see the blush creeping up his cheeks as he shyly waved to the front row.
He looked so fucking adorable, dressed in his button-up shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes, and with a fresh haircut that had enough length on top to brush over the scar on his forehead, but with shaved sides. I knew he still struggled with insecurities over his limp and leg brace, so the fact he had agreed to come on stage at all filled me with pride. I would forever be in awe of the strength this man possessed.
Gray was already attempting to inch his way offstage, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. Determined, I sashayed over and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the center of the stage. His eyes widened in surprise, his fading smile replaced by a look of sheer terror at my going off script. It was cute how nervous he seemed, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor, and I appreciated that he was pushing down his insecurities for me.
As soon as we stepped into the main spotlight, I jumped into his arms, catching him off guard and almost causing him to drop me. Planting a dramatic kiss on his lips, I played it up for the crowd before whispering in his ear, sharing a moment just between us. “Hey, baby. I missed you.”
“What are you doing,” he hissed. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”
“I’m claiming my man,” I replied with a smirk.
I took Gray’s huge hand in mine, the warmth of his touch grounding me as I picked up the microphone once more. “I’d like to share a story with all of you. Eight years ago, this man right here saved me. He took me in when I had nowhere else to go, and he saw something in me. He was the one who gave me the courage to pursue my music. And seven years ago, he gave me his grandmother’s ring and promised to love me for the rest of our lives.”
You could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence that swept through the stadium. It was eerie to witness sixty thousand people collectively holding their breath, hanging on my every word.
“As you all know, we haven’t spent the last seven years together. But we’ve never stopped loving each other. So, Gray,” I said, dropping down on one knee and pulling the ring box from my pocket.
Gray’s mouth dropped open, the deafening roar of the crowd fading into the background as our focus narrowed in on only each other. Despite the public spectacle, this moment felt so intensely intimate, it could have been just the two of us in the world.
“You’re the love of my life, Gray. You asked me last time, so I thought it was my turn. Will you marry me? Will you renew our vows so that we can start our next chapter properly?”
Tears glistened on Gray’s cheeks as he met my eyes. “Yes, baby.”
He wrapped me in his arms, kissing me with all he was worth. Eventually, we parted long enough for me to open the ring box. Inside the plush blue velvet lay our original rings: his wedding band, which Violet had stolen from the necklace he wore it on, and Grandma Betty’s sapphire ring, which I’d kept locked away in a safe at home all these years, knowing I could never part with it.
Slipping the ring onto his finger, I handed the box over to Gray, allowing him to return my ring to its rightful place on my left hand. Then, I guided him over to the stool where I usually sat for ballads, instructing him to take a seat.
Picking up my guitar, I proceeded to do something incredibly cheesy. I serenaded him with the song I had written for him, the lyrics serving as my personal epiphany that our relationship was far from over. It wasn’t exactly my usual style, but judging from the happy tears and the sappy look on Gray’s face, I knew my hopeless romantic was in heaven right now.
The symbolism of this moment wasn’t lost on me. I was singing to my long-lost love about my journey without him by my side, about the imperfect cadence that had defined our relationship. Yet, in a stroke of serendipity, I had intentionally concluded the song on a perfect cadence, a manifestation of my hopes for our future.
And it worked.
Epilogue
“Somebody To You”
6 years later
“It’s perfect, baby,” I murmured, spinning around to wrap my arms around Colt’s waist and pulling him up onto his tiptoes for a kiss.
The room was everything we had envisioned. A bunk bed with brightly patterned quilts stood against one wall, while a vibrant musical-themed mural adorned the opposite wall. In the center of the room, a tiny table stocked with coloring supplies beckoned, surrounded by a cozy toy corner decorated with an array of stuffed animals and toy cars, all ready to welcome the new additions to our family.
Ever since we received the call a week ago informing us that we would be fostering a pair of six-year-old twin boys, Colt had been in decoration overdrive.
This room had been a blank canvas, purposely left untouched since we moved in last year, all in anticipation of this very day—the day we would officially become parents together.
Not that Colt didn’t consider Violet a part of his family, but she had been twelve going on forty when he met her. Their relationship leaned more towards friendship than a traditional parent-child dynamic.
Our house had been a labor of love, taking almost three years to construct according to Colt’s very particular specifications. Building a mansion in the heart of rural Missouri proved to be quite the challenge. Materials and labor were hard to come by, even with the advantage of my best friend owning a construction company. The house wasn’t even extravagant, well, by Colt’s standards anyway. The locals couldn’t help but drive past our property and gawk.
Apart from the state-of-the-art recording studio Colt insisted on building so that he could keep recording here, instead of needing to constantly travel to LA, the house exuded a warm and inviting atmosphere. We had opted for a cozy, homely vibe over lavishness, foregoing high-end appliances and fixtures in favor of ample space. With six bedrooms, the house was ready to welcome all the children we hoped to fill it with.
Our house sat nestled on a sprawling twenty-acre block, along with one very important spring and waterfall. Colt had insisted that if we were going to remain in Jasper, he wanted to build a house in the place it all started. The negotiations between Colt and Remy had been hilarious, but ultimately Colt had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse—a date with a certain blond bombshell.
We now had ample space for me to indulge in my newfound hobby of farming. Over time, I’ve welcomed a variety of animals onto our property, including chickens, two horses, four rescue dogs, and a barn cat. As part of our foster parent certification education, we learned about the therapeutic benefits of caring for pets, which can help foster children feel a sense of belonging.
