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His wife.
He lets go of my hands, and my palms fly to my mouth.
Garrison.
I watch as he scoots his chair back.
“Garrison?” I croak.
Is he…?
I glance around, but of what I can see in the dim restaurant, no one is filming. People are watching, but no one has cameras out…or phones.
He planned this. He must have.
He planned this for me? For us.
“Willow.” He takes a knee in front of my chair.
I’m still in tears, still stunned, and I angle towards him.
Garrison reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black box. He wipes the wet corners of his eyes and flips the lid. “Will you do the biggest honor of my whole existence and marry me?” His voice trembles.
I cry, pinching my eyes, and I nod and say, “Yes.” And then we’re in each other’s arms. Hugging. He brings me to a stance, to his chest, and our lips meet with so much soul and life and love that I feel like I’m soaring.
When we pull back, he slips a dainty ring on my finger, a diamond on a thin gold band with six tinier diamonds scattered like a vine. It’s beautiful, but I don’t have the chance to tell him.
Rouged curtains open behind me, and I hear applause and cheering before I see them.
My family.
Lo and Ryke. My dad. And Connor, Rose, Lily, and Daisy. My friends Sheetal and Tess. They’re all here. Smiling. Crying.
I’m more overcome with more happiness. Seeing so many faces I love in one room. One place. In London.
I don’t let go of Garrison’s hand as I greet everyone.
I’m engaged.
To my guy, my greatest friend, to the someday father of my child, to my whole, beautiful future. It’s going to be full of him.
Pizzas are spread out in a fancy, private backroom of Lola Vine, where my family and friends had been hiding and waiting for Garrison to pop the big question.
What I quickly discover: the proposal was months in the making. Which means he knew he wanted to marry me months ago.
He asked me to marry him. It’s still sinking in.
My face hurts from smiling.
Everyone managed to keep the secret to surprise me, and I still feel light-on-my-toes, floating and butterflies flapping—like I’m seventeen again with Garrison Abbey, about to embark on my first day at Dalton Academy.
And he’s next to his car, waiting for me.
The night is winding down, pizzas devoured and a towering meringue pie picked on. I already asked Daisy to be my maid of honor. I blurted it out, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she hugged me. Instantly accepting the role.
Rose and Lily were each other’s maids of honor, and Daisy never had a sister place her at the top. But she’s number one on my list.
After I say goodbye to Sheetal and Tess, I take a bathroom break with the Calloway sisters, and Garrison and Connor slip into the men’s room.
All should be perfectly well and good, but when we return to the backroom to grab coats, the air isn’t easygoing or happy like we left it.
Lo and Ryke face our dad, all three on their feet and wielding heated glares and tense postures.
And as their eyes swerve to me, descending upon me with hot intimidation, I know what this has to be about. It’s the only thing I can think of that’d elicit this intense reaction.
The lie.
My bad deed.
Years ago, I accepted Jonathan Hale’s money to bribe students into deleting video footage of Garrion’s fight with Salvatore, and I never told my brothers.
Every butterfly dies in my lungs, wings cut.
Garrison slips an arm around my waist. He’s right next to me, but I have a feeling he won’t be for long.
Rose is the first to speak. “What’s going on?” Her voice is accusatory, like they’re harbors of grave news on my celebratory day, and therefore, should be punished.
But it’s my fault, for not telling them the truth in the first place.
“We need to talk to our sister,” Lo says, his amber eyes still on mine. He seems really upset, and remorse eats at my insides.
Ryke adds, “In private.”
I’m frozen, but I try to breathe.
My dad has a hand on his side, standing like he’s made of importance and prestige. “If you’re not a Hale by blood, you should go wait in the cars. We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“I’m not leaving,” Garrison retorts. “If this is about Willow—”
“She can talk to you later,” Lo interjects. “We won’t be that long.”
Garrison’s eyes fall down to me while Rose and Connor speak rapidly in fiery and smooth French to one another, filling the silence. Daisy and Lily are holding hands, and they exit the backroom first, but not before Daisy mouths to me, you got this.
She has no idea what I’m about to face or the truth I withheld, but she’s still encouraging me. Still has faith in me. I breathe in, and I look up at Garrison. “I’ll be okay.”
