This was the last photo we took together. Staring down at it, the grief is unavoidable as tears prick the corners of my eyes. Hastily wiping them away, I set the frame back and absentmindedly tuck the note in a separate pocket from the rest.
When I turn the corner, I’m stunned by what must be hundreds of flickering candles, their light dancing off the hedges and turning a simple garden into an actual fairytale.
“Don’t worry, they’re all battery powered,” a voice in front of me says. “I wouldn’t dare risk burning down your Texas roses, cowboy.”
I slide my gaze from the candles to the woman standing in front of me–ethereal, angelic, so beautiful it hurts. For a moment, I stand completely still and silent, unable to comprehend exactly what it is I’m looking at. I know this is something huge, something life-altering, but all I can think to say is–
“Howdy there, darlin’.”
Taking a deep breath, she takes a step toward me.
“When I was fourteen, all I wanted was to leave this town, and everyone in it. And then I met you,” she says, lifting her eyes to reach mine. The candle flames reflect off her deep, blue eyes like starlight, and all I want is to lose myself in them forever.
The sound of fingers snapping brings me back to attention, and she whispers, “Can you pay attention? I’m trying to do something here.”
“Sorry,” I chuckle, making a show of planting my feet firmly and standing at attention, focusing on her face with intense concentration.
“As I was saying, I met you. And you changed everything, Griffin. You changed the way I looked at things, the way I thought about life. You changed my hopes, my dreams, my idea of love. You changedme.You are in every fiber of my being, in every piece of my soul–and I am so much better for it.”
Taking another step closer, she continues, “I spent so long being scared. I don’t even think anything happened, I just knew that I felt scared, so there must be something to be scared of. And I thought that thing was you. But I was wrong.” She steps forward again.
“I’m not scared anymore. You were–are–the best thing that ever happened to me. You make me want to be steady, to be sure of things the way that you are. And it tookme a long time, a lot of mistakes, andseveralapologetic monologues, including this one, but I think I’ve really got it figured out this time.” She moves toward me until there’s only a foot and a half between us.
“So here it is,again,hopefully for the last time–I love you, Griffin Hart. In every way one person can love another. I always have, and I always will, if you’ll let me.”
Without a word, I take the last step, crossing the final distance between us.
“You don’t have to have an answer for me tonight,” she says, eyes dropping to where she’s anxiously twisting her hands between us. “I know I’ve done this before, and I’ve hurt you, and there’s no taking that back, so you can take as much time as you need to figure out what you want, if you want anything at all.”
I gently grasp her chin with my thumb and forefinger, lifting her gaze to mine. When our eyes meet, her breath hitches, and I’m completely and utterlygonefor her. I press my hand to the small of her back, pulling her to me until there’s no space remaining between our bodies. I lower my face to hers, my mouth hovering over hers for the briefest of moments, then we’re all lips and tongue and breath andfire.
“Everything. I want everything. You can haveeverything,” I whisper raggedly, my forehead pressed to hers. “And I’ll take whatever you want to give me, Eleanor, for as long as you want to give it.”
“Okay, everything it is then,” She giggles, tucking her head beneath my chin and wrapping her arms tightly around my middle. I press a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring against her soft hair. "As far as 'how long' goes, I was thinking maybe…forever? How does that sound?"
“That sounds perfect to me, darlin’–I’ll take it.”
Epilogue
Epilogue - 1 Year Later
“Ladies and gentleman, it’s my pleasure to present to you for the very first time–Griffin and Eleanor Hart!”
I grin widely at my husband before we walk hand in hand through the old barn doors into our reception.
Husband. I will never get tired of saying that.
Everything about the wedding was perfect. Abby and Jenna stood by my side, with Jack and David by Griffin’s. The old barn–the same one where we had the reunion that brought us back together–overflowed with irises and roses from the gardens Griffin planted on the grounds, long before he had any hope that we’d work out. Each bouquet and boutonniere was made of the same flowers, which was his idea. He let me (and Abby) take the reins on wedding planning, but was adamant about the flowers. It took meback to my sixteenth birthday and the flowers on my desk that told me fully knew me, even then.
Griffin’s dad got ordained so he could officiate the wedding, and my dad cried the whole time walking me down the aisle. I had the jitters all morning–excited ones, not cold-feet ones–but the moment I locked eyes with my sweet cowboy, the world fell away. No one has ever looked more handsome in a tux and a cowboy hat, and with each step toward forever, my love for him somehow grew even deeper.
As we take the floor for our first dance, the first notes of A Life Where We Work Out by Flatland Cavalry play over the speakers.
In a life where we work out there’s a house up on the hill…
“Well, Mrs. Hart,” Griffin says, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “How are we feeling?”
A front porch going all the way round, and a flower pot on the windowsill…
