His mouth curved, but his eyes stayed steady on mine. "Then you started talking about the closet."
A shaky laugh slipped out of me. "I didn't know household storage could sabotage a proposal."
"It didn't." He stepped closer. "It was the point."
The room went very quiet.
Zane opened his palm. A ring sat there, simple and bright, with a small oval stone that caught the tree lights and held them. Not flashy. Not delicate in a way that would make me afraid to live in it. Beautiful.
My fingers flew to my mouth.
Zane's throat worked once. Then he lowered to one knee in front of me.
The sound I made came out shaky and wet.
His eyes warmed. "Daphne."
"I'm listening."
"You'd better be. I'm only doing this once."
"I'm very focused."
"You came through my gate because you had to," he said. "You stayed in my life because you chose to. You told me the truth when it cost you. You stood beside me when it would've been easier to walk away. You made this house louder, warmer, messier, and better."
My vision blurred.
Zane took my left hand in his. His thumb moved over my knuckles, steadying me even now.
"I don't want a temporary system with you," he said. "I want your books on my chair, your creamer in my fridge, your gloves over my vent, and your name on every Christmas card that comes through that door. I want every season I get with you. Marry me."
The first tear slipped before I could stop it.
"Yes," I said.
His eyes held mine.
I laughed through the next breath. "Yes, Zane. I'll marry you."
He slid the ring onto my finger, and I stared at the small oval stone flashing in the Christmas lights.
Then I dropped to my knees in front of him and grabbed his face.
Zane caught me as I kissed him, one arm wrapping around my back, the other still holding mine like he wasn't ready to let go of the yes. The kiss was rougher than I meant it to be, wet from my tears, warm from his smile, and so full of him that I couldn't tell where laughing ended and kissing started.
When we broke apart, his forehead rested against mine.
"You're crying," he said.
"You proposed."
"That was the goal."
"I'm allowed."
"I know." His thumb brushed under my eye. "I like it."
"You like making me cry?"
