I laughed—half a sob—and nodded before I could even think.
We were standingin Adrian’s parents’ backyard holding silver rings. The smell of lilacs drifted through the air. The sun hit his hair just right, highlighting the burnished streaks buried in his dark brown, and his smile… his smile could’ve powered the sun.
The weight of his ring on my finger felt right, as if it’d always been there.
That spark burned me again, the same one from the dorm, from the first time he looked at me like I mattered.
Our vows weren’t new words. They were everything we’d already lived—long nights, quiet distances, and the small breaks we kept choosing to mend. Then his mouth on mine, and the world exhaling around us. The guests reacted with laughter and applause, but it blurred at the edges. It always did when I was with him.
And for one suspended heartbeat, it was all there. Every version of us, folding into that single, perfect moment.
There was no band. Just a borrowed speaker playing “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” stripped down to piano and strings. The first notes drifted through the twilight air, soft as a whisper. Adrian’s fingers found mine, warm and possessive, pulling me close until I could feel the steady beat of his heart through his shirt. He smelled faintly of cedar and champagne. I rested my forehead against his temple, feeling the rasp of his breath against my cheek.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured.
“I’m not,” I lied. My voice cracked anyway.
He smiled, that lazy, devastating smile that had undone me since the beginning. “You are. It’s okay. I am too.”
The light around us deepened to amber.
This is what forever feels like.Not fireworks or grand gestures. Just the warmth of his body pressed to mine, the certainty of belonging. The world could end right here, and I’d still have everything.
When the song ended, he didn’t stop moving. His hands slid up to cradle my face, and he kissed me slowly, reverently, as if the entire world existed inside that single beat.
Applause rippled around us, but it was far away, meaningless. All I could hear was his heartbeat against my chest and the faint rustle of leaves in the evening air.
“Elias Hawke,” he whispered against my lips, voice thick with emotion, “my husband.”
I laughed disbelievingly, tears already catching in my throat.
“Always,” I told him. “You’ll always be my yes.”
The fading light caught on our rings.
My mother’s toast burned into my memory. “Love isn’t the promise of never breaking. It’s the decision to keep holding on, even after you do.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” he murmured back, voice thick with emotion. “Always have. Always will.”
We swayed there, in the backyard of his parents’ home, and I held onto him like the universe depended on it. Because it did.Because every beat of my heart belonged to him, and every cell in my body wanted only to remain in this moment, in this kiss, in this warmth. But time was running short, and the reel spun me forward, spitting out snapshots of our honeymoon staycation.
Between student loans and rent, we were already deep enough in debt to make the idea of a vacation laughable. Instead, Adrian took a few days off—an impossible feat in itself—and we turned our tiny home into a world of our own. Flashes of greasy pizza from the place down the street, eaten in bed while old movies played.
We made love every time the credits rolled, slow and unhurried, skin still warm from the last bout. Between kisses, we joked about how the neighbors probably hated us and how we’d never survive as grown-ups.
He traced the band of my ring with his thumb. “This is better than Bora Bora.”
I believed him. In that small, cluttered room with its too-small closet and shaky ceiling fan, I had everything I’d ever wanted.
Chapter 8
The Sixth Minute
ELI
Pale morning light spilled across the kitchen counter. Adrian stood by the fridge, shirt half-buttoned, scrolling his phone with one hand while the other clutched a cup of coffee like a lifeline. He looked tired, worn down in a way no amount of caffeine could fix.
