Page 667 of End Game

“I had it made from my design.”

His eyes shine immediately.

Fuck.

I expected emotion. I did not prepare adequately for what seeing it on his face would do to mine.

I move around the island, and Dex follows me with his eyes the entire way.

When I stop in front of him, I take the box in one hand and lower myself onto one knee.

His hand covers his mouth. “Holy fucking shit.”

A laugh escapes me despite everything happening in my chest. “That's approximately what I expected.”

“You're serious.”

“Yes.”

“Like, actually serious?”

“Yes, Dex.”

His eyes are already wet, and he looks almost annoyed about it. “You're fucking proposing.”

“That is generally what this position implies.”

The sound he makes is half laugh, half sob.

I take his free hand, and his fingers close around mine automatically.

“I told you that you were my primary because we were already building a life together. I meant it then, and I still mean it now.”

His thumb presses hard against my hand.

“I don't need marriage to make that true. I don't need paperwork to make you more important, and I'm not asking because Griffin and Cami are married or because anybody needs legal symmetry.”

Dex nods too quickly. “I know.”

“I know you know.”

His face crumples for half a second.

I squeeze his hand. “I still want it.”

That stops him.

“I want you to be my husband.”

His breath catches.

“I want to keep coming home to you. I want to complain about your shoes in the hallway for another fifty years. I want to watch you play music in rooms that are too loud and listen to you insist every bad idea is part of your creative process.”

“Most of them are.”

“I know.”

He laughs through the tears.