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I look into his eyes, and I see it all—our past, our present, our future. Our wounds, our struggles, our triumphs.
He’s everything.
And suddenly, I don’t want to wait, either. Not for another year, or another week, or even another day.
“Tomorrow is my free day,” I murmur. “I don’t have class. Can you call into work?”
Maverick’s eyes light up. “Tomorrow?”
“Unless you don’t want—”
“Tomorrow’s great,” he says, and I laugh as he grabs my left hand and unceremoniously shoves the ring onto my finger.
I launch myself at him with such gusto that I knock my chair over. Maverick catches me around the waist and we collapse on the porch as a poof of chalk dust surrounds us. Sprawled across his chest, I push myself up. We’ve rolled away from the light of the house, and I work to make out his features in the dark. “We’re getting married tomorrow?” I ask breathlessly, hardly able to believe that this day is finally here.
Maverick squeezes my hips. I grind down instinctively, and when he replies, it’s through gritted teeth. “On one condition.”
“What?”
He finds my left hand and runs the tip of his finger over the diamond he put there. “In Myrtle Beach, whenever we’re in our room, you don’t wear anything but this ring.”
I whisper my hasty agreement just before our mouths crash together.
Theweekendafterwereturn from our trip, we host a belated wedding reception at our house. Most of our family and friends were fine with our spontaneous courthouse wedding. In fact, when we called Maverick’s dad afterward to let him know that we had eloped, he was silent on the other end of the phone for a full three seconds before he admitted, “I forgot you weren’t married.”
One person wasveryupset, though. And she’s still not over it.
“I’ve been planning Maverick and Azalea’s wedding in my head since I was seventeen,” Callie announces to our guests. I explained to her several times that this isn’t really meant to be a traditional wedding reception; we just wanted to have all our loved ones together. Still, she insisted on giving a maid of honor speech. She holds a glass of wine and turns in a slow circle, making sure that everybody in our living room can see and hear her. “Ieasilycould have driven down from Chicago and been here in plenty of time to see them get married. I still can’t believe—”
“Is this a speech,” Maverick asks, holding Addie in his lap, “or an excuse for you to complain about us?”
Callie glowers at him. “After all the time I spent dealing with the two of you and your drama, don’t you think I deserve to complain a little?”
“Yes,” says Pax bluntly. He’s leaning in the doorway, sipping a beer. He glances over at us. “You guys used to give me migraines.”
Grant, home for the offseason, guffaws. “Do you guys remember that time—”
“Let’s move on,” I interrupt, and everyone laughs. I glance around the circle of people sitting and standing around us. Besides Pax, Grant, and Callie, Maverick’s dad is here with Lilly, now seventeen. My dad is here with Jess—his wife—along with Heath and Penelope, who is in town for a visit. I’m not super close to Jess, but she and I get along well. She’s given me a lot of good advice on being a mom. More importantly, my dad is the happiest I’ve ever seen him.
I haven’t spoken to Marie or any of her relatives since the day she called me on the phone. I’m at peace with the fact that we’re never going to have a relationship, and at this point, I truly believe that this is best for both of us.
Everybody I need is right here in this room.
When the laughter around us peters out, Callie grows serious. “Okay, I am going to get personal here for a minute,” she says, “so bear with me.”
She clears her throat, and I have the sinking feeling that I’m about to see her cry. The last time she cried in front of me was years ago, when we asked her to be Addie's godmother.
“Maverick and I grew up on the same block, and our families were always doing things together. He’s like a brother to me, and I love him like one. Azalea, she came to our school at the end of senior year. She and I met on the senior class trip. I’d never met someone who…” She trails off, her eyes meeting mine. “I’m an extrovert, you might have noticed,” she continues, prompting a quiet chuckle from the group, “and kind of a mess sometimes. Azalea was introverted and put together. I remember beingsoimpressed by her. She was like a thirty-year-old in a teenager’s body. Somehow, even though we were so different, we clicked.” Her voice wavers, just a bit. “Azalea and Maverick are the best friends I’ve ever had.”
I brush my sleeve over my eyes. Maverick reaches over to squeeze my other hand. “So it makes sense,” Callie goes on, “that these two amazing people would be made for each other. I never really believed in that kind of thing, but I don’t know how anyone could watch all this play out and not think that the universe was pulling some strings.
“It wasn’t all smooth sailing,” she continues. “There were times when I thought they were toast. I’d worry about how I was going to maintain my friendships with both of them if they couldn’t make things work. But that was all for nothing, because they always found their way back to each other. Guys,” she says, speaking directly to us now. Her voice cracks, and her first tear falls, closely followed by a second and a third. “I’m not really holding a grudge about the drama, or the wedding. Actually, maybe a little one.” A quiet laugh ripples through the room. “I just want to say that when I think of true love, I think of you two. I love you so, so much.” She raises her glass. “Cheers.”
We all watch as she finishes her uncharacteristically heartfelt speech by draining the rest of her wine. When she comes up for air, she smacks her lips and says, “Alright. That’s enough emotion for the next three years.”
I burst into laughter as I stand to hug her. “I love you,” I murmur in her ear. “Thank you for everything.”
She and Maverick share a long hug, which is interrupted when Addie wedges her way between them and wraps her arms around Callie’s legs. Callie picks her up and blows a raspberry on her cheek. “Don’t worry, Addie girl. You’re my favorite,” she says, loud enough for Maverick and me to hear, and then she whisks our daughter into the kitchen.
