“You’re it for me, Honey.”
She presses her lips together hard, trying not to cry.
I hold the ring out toward her again.
“So.” My voice shakes slightly despite my best effort. “Hunniford Sanderson...”
Her eyes close briefly at the use of her full name.
“Will you marry me?”
For a second, she just stares at me. Like she’s trying to memorize this exact version of me forever.
Then she slowly lowers herself onto the floor in front of me until we’re eye level.
“You already know my answer,” she whispers.
“Tell me anyway.”
She holds out her hand to me, and I slip the ring onto her finger. Then she cups my face with both hands and looks at me the same way she did when we were eighteen years old and I told her I loved her for the first time.
“Yes,” she says softly but firmly. “A thousand times yes.”
My eyes start to burn with unshed tears.
“I choose you, Zach Evans.” Her voice breaks slightly. “I'm done running.”
I kiss her before I can think too hard about how much I love her. Right there on the living room floor of her tiny apartment.
And outside, Rome keeps moving around us—cars passing, people talking, music drifting faintly through the street below—completely unaware that everything I’ve ever wanted is finally in my arms.
Ten years later
“Next!” Olivia calls.
I absentmindedly spin the pen in my hand while my eyes drift to my rings. The honeycomb engagement ring still sparkles as brightly as the day Zach proposed to me. Only now it has a perfectly cut, honeycomb band to match.
“Oh, my goodness. I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you,” the girl says breathlessly as she steps up to the table, clutching a stack of paperbacks tightly against her chest. She can’t be older than twenty. “I reread your series every single year.”
I can’t help smiling at that. Even after all this time, hearingsomeone say my words stayed with them long enough to reread never stops feeling surreal.
“Well, that’s lovely to hear.” I reach for the top book in her stack. The corners are worn slightly, sticky tabs peeking from between the pages, and my heart warms at the sight. These books have been loved. “Who should I make this out to?”
“Elizabeth,” she says quickly before laughing nervously. “Sorry. I’m trying to act normal right now, and it’s really not working.”
I laugh softly. “You’re doing just fine, Elizabeth.”
Her cheeks flush bright pink as I uncap my pen.
“I started reading your books when I was sixteen,” she admits while I open the title page. “My mom actually bought me the first one because she said Cassie and Brian’s story reminded her of her and my dad.”
That catches me off guard in the best way.
“Did it?” I ask, glancing up at her.
Elizabeth nods enthusiastically. “They met in college, and they had a lot of stuff going on. My mom cried at the scene where Cassie had to learn to choose herself instead of wallowing in the grief of losing her mom.”
“That scene was hard to write,” I admit quietly as I glance back down at the page. “I think sometimes people mistake healing for giving up on the people you lost, when really it’s about learning how to carry them with you without letting the grief swallow you whole.”
