Page 208 of The Exit Strategy

I tear my gaze away from the home I’m impatient to see.

“I had a speech,” he says shyly.

“Did you?”

“I did. A really good one too. Hudson helped me write it. Fen added his…Fenisms. Nolan threatened to read it aloud atthe rehearsal dinner if I screwed up the proposal, which suggests Nolan is more confident than I am that there will be a rehearsal dinner.”

My throat is too dry to speak.

“The speech was…” He glances over my head. “It was fine. It had three sections. Supporting evidence. An emotional hook. A solid theory. But now that I’m standing on the edge of our forever, I can’t remember a single word of it, so I’m going off script.”

I’m going to cry. Again. More proof that the new Junie is a freaking crybaby.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I’ve ever allowed myself to acknowledge. I fell for you in stages, over many life events, and years that crossed like lifetimes. I’ve loved you longer than I’ve been doing anything else in my entire life. I built houses to give to you. I built a community to keep you safe in. I built a quiet, full, terrified life around the absence of you, and I built it well enough that I almost convinced myself I was fine. But I wasn’t. I am, as it turns out, only fine when you’re within shouting distance.”

“Cole.” Oh, God. I sound like a frog.

“I’m not done.”

Good. I’m not ready to speak yet.

“You sat on my grandfather’s old dock with your feet in the water, and you told me you didn’t know who you were and that you didn’t think I knew who I was either. You told me you wanted a break?—”

I shake my head, and a tear slips free. He wipes it away with his thumb and continues speaking.

“But then, you didn’t take one. You stayed. I’ve spent the months since that night trying to be the man who deserves the version of you who stays. I’m a work in progress, but I can promise you that I’ll try. That I’ll keep trying every dayof our lives because you’re it for me. You are my forever, and I’m asking you to keep letting me try.”

He reaches into his pocket while dropping to one knee, and my throat holds air hostage.

“You’ve released your ghosts, Junie, and you’ve helped me harness mine.” Cole pulls out a small velvet box. “Those are some pretty good verbs, huh?”

I choke on a garbled laugh as he opens the box.

What’s inside isn’t a replacement.

It’s so much more.

Three bands of pavé diamonds. The top and bottom sparkle in their symmetry. The middle row is slightly bigger than the others. Somehow, the three work in perfect harmony.

“Three bands,” Cole says. “For our past, our present, and our future. I want you to wear it on your right hand, because Nana Mae’s diamond is where it was always meant to be. But this one, this one is us. It’s our messy beginning, our hard-earned story, and our happily ever after all together, just as we were always meant to be.”

My tears are coming so fast I can barely make out his face.

“Juniper Mercer. Will you marry me?”

In less than three seconds, I take inventory of my feelings.

I’m not tempted to run.

No part of me is trying to lash out.

Every part of me is screaming yes.

“Yes,” I say.

Cole’s face warms in a way I will think about for the rest of my life.

“Yes,” I say again louder when he doesn’t move. “Yes, Cole. Yes. But I need you to put that ring on my finger andkiss me before I start making up stories about what’s happening here.”