“Aunt Joan and Kiara proved me wrong,” I say. “They’ve been there for me through everything.”
“I’m glad you weren’t alone.” There’s a gruff, choked quality to his voice that makes me look up. “I wanted to be there.”
His expression is so tender, but my cheeks burn with shame. It’s my fault he wasn’t with me. I pushed him away.
“It’s okay, Hazel. I understand,” he says, as if he can read the guilt on my face.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist,” I blurt.
“That’s good.” He takes one step closer, but still doesn’t touch me. “And what did this therapist say?”
“That I should give you a chance.” I rub the ribbon between my fingers, studying the gift rather than him.
Cosmos brushes his fingers against my arm, so softly I’m not sure it’s happened until I look down and see him do it again. I feel as if my heart might splinter from the hope that’s pounding against my ribs.
“Is that what you want?” he asks.
“Here.” I panic and awkwardly push the present into his chest, letting it go like my fingers burn.
Opening it, he looks at the thick stack of papers. Silent. Intently reading the title page. I knew this wasgoing to be hard. I was nervous already, but now I feel terrified. Like he’s holding my naked heart in his hands rather than 286 pages of a romance novel.
He flips the title page to the back of the stack and looks down at the dedication. I say it aloud from memory.
“I wrote this book for my mom, who will never get to read it. But, I’m dedicating it to someone else (I don’t think she’ll mind, because I know how much she loved love). This is for the man who taught me it’s okay to love romance novels, then swept me into one of my own. To the man I pushed away because I was too afraid. To the man I love. To Cosmos Romero, romance novel bucket lists, and hope.”
His eyes lock with mine and hold.
“Um, so… no one else has ever read this. I want you to read it first. I can change it if you don’t want your name in it. I’m sorry I…” My voice breaks on a sob. “W-would you give me another chance?”
“Oh, my sweet darling.” He steps fully into my space. One hand holds the pages of my book. The other wraps around my waist and pulls me close. “I was so nervous when I got your text. I was prepared to grovel and beg. I thought maybe the romantic setting,” he wiggles his eyebrows, gaze flicking to the single candle, “would help my case.”
I can’t help laughing and leaning into him.
“It broke my heart that I couldn’t be with you as you grieved. I want to be with you when you’re hurting.” He brushes the back of his hand across my cheek. “On good days and bad ones, too. I want to know every facet and color and shade of you, Hazel.”
“What if you don’t like what you find?”
“Impossible.”
“I’m serious.” I pull back, trying to see him more clearly.
“Hazel, we might not like everything about each other at every moment for the rest of our lives. We’ll fight. We’ll get annoyed. Maybe we won’t be together forever. I don’t know. I can’t see the future, and I can’t stop time anymore.” His palm gently cups the side of my face. “Life doesn’t come with guarantees. All we’re offered is hope and love. I love you. I chose you. For as long as you’ll have me. Will you have me?”
I know why Emily Dickinson called hope a thing with wings—it flutters.
A teasing smirk deepens his dimples. “I’m not quite as perfect as I seem, either.”
“You do think very highly of yourself. Cocky, even.” I laugh, the noise watery, but full of happiness.
He bends slightly and tilts my chin up so we’re looking at each other. Barely an inch separates his lips from mine. “I think very highly ofyou, Hazel Berton.”
That fluttery feeling takes flight, spreading out from my heart. “I love you, too, Cosmos Romero.”
He looks a little surprised, like he didn’t expect me to say it. But it quickly morphs into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. His dimples are so deep I could balance dimes in them.
He’s still smiling when he kisses me. We both are. A happy, playful kiss. Until we’re interrupted by a single knock, followed by three quick ones.
“That’s Viraj. Dr. Newberry must be looking forme.” I’ve never seen Cosmos pout before, and it’s kind of adorable. “I should go.”
