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I’ve tried not to dwell on the years we were split up, on all the sleeping around he did. The knowledge that he kept his tattoo—and technically his promise that no other woman would ever touch what’s mine—eases some of the jealousy. But not completely. Rubbing our engagement in the faces of those women feels… satisfying.

No one’s really getting hurt, right? It’s just a post.

When Sophia finally shows me the two absolute perfect shots, I get giddy all over again.

The first is Simon down on one knee, holding out the little ring box, looking so handsome it hurts. I’m standing in front of him, wide-eyed and shocked, both of us staring at each other with hearts practically spilling out of our eyes. The cliffside and the endless view behind us make it look like something out of a movie. The second photo is even better—Simon’s arm wrapped around me while I gaze down at my newly ringed left hand, admiring the way the diamond catches the light. And Simon… he’s looking at my face with an expression no one could ever mistake for anything but pure, aching adoration.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, my throat tightening. “Those are… perfect.”

Sophia grins, already knowing she’s won. “So? Post them?”

I bite my lip, glancing ahead at Simon again. He’s laughing at something Carter said, Theo still dead to the world in his arms. The future feels so close I can taste it. Maybe it’s petty, but after everything we’ve been through to get here, I want to show this moment off.

I take a breath, smile, and nod. “Yeah. Okay, send me the photos. I’ll post them.”

“Oh! And tag everyone so we can hype you up,” Brittney adds, already airdropping me the shots she took. My phone pings with the files, and I start fiddling with the caption while we walk, trying to find the right words.

The girls immediately pivot to wedding planning like someone flipped a switch.

“What about a fall wedding?” Sophia asks, eyes sparkling. “The colors would be gorgeous with that ring.”

“No, summer!” Brittney argues. “She always said she wanted wildflowers. Remember that Pinterest board she made in college?”

“Do not do burlap, I swear to God, Blaire—” Sophia cuts in, pointing a finger at me. “I will stage an intervention.”

I hear Chance groan a few feet ahead of us. He shoots Simon a pitying look over his shoulder. “Have fun the next year, man. All your conversations are going to be about napkins and seating charts.”

“He’s marrying a teacher,” Brittney fires back without missing a beat. “His conversations are already about seating charts!”

“And you loved planning our wedding, so stop pretending to be manly,” Sophia calls out.

Carter laughs and nudges Dad with his elbow. “This is gonna cost you, Pops.”

Dad snorts, not even phased. “Been saving for Blaire’s wedding since the day she brought Simon home.”

Simon shakes his head, voice low but steady. “Don’t worry about money. I’ve got it. Whatever she wants—she’ll have.”

Dad stops dead in his tracks and turns to glare at Simon like he just announced he was voting Republican. “That’s my daughter,” he says firmly, voice thick with emotion. “I already got robbed of paying for one of my daughters’ weddings.” He shoots Brittney a pointed look, and she gives him an apologetic little shrug. Running off to Vegas with a boyfriend of three months and getting pregnant right after is apparently something a dad never forgets—or fully forgives. “I’ll be damned if I don’t get to pretend to bitch about paying for napkins for at least one of my daughters.”

We all burst out laughing, the sound echoing down the trail. Even Theo stirs a little in Simon’s arms before settling again.

Simon holds up one hand in surrender, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Alright. Alright. Bitch about napkin prices all you want.”

Dad grumbles something about “young men showing off,” but I catch the smile he tries to hide behind his hand. He’s only pretending to be annoyed. The way his eyes soften when he looks at Simon tells me everything—he’s just happy his family is whole again.

***

My phone is still buzzing with notifications from the engagement post, and I can’t stop grinning as I scroll through the comments out loud.

“Listen to this one,” I say, angling the screen toward Simon even though he’s driving. “‘Finally! About damn time you two got your act together. The ring is stunning, Blaire—congrats!’ And Chance commented with like seven fire emojis and ‘Took you long enough, Simon.’”

Simon chuckles, one hand resting on my thigh while the other steers. “Your brothers were getting their digs at me on the hike down too.”

“They’re your brothers too now,” I remind him, warmth blooming in my chest.

I keep reading the flow of comments and DMs from friends and family. It feels good. Like the whole world is celebrating with us. I’m still riding the high when a new DM notification pops up. It’s a request. From Veronica.

My thumb hovers for a second. She’s never messaged me directly before. I tap it open, expecting… I don’t even know what.