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When we hit the last verse, Arianne is nothing more than a pool of tears, but she finds it in her to clap, a huge smile stretching her lips.
I wink.
The crowd goes ballistic.
I thank them with a bow.
My friends do the same.
Then, a solemn silence settles around the theater, as if people are waiting with bated breath for what comes next.
I walk up to Rhys, remove my guitar and hand it to him. Holt hands me a small red box. I take it from him and place my arm behind my back. It’s still too early. I approach Arianne and interlace our fingers together.
“This is more than just a concert, baby.”
“You tricked me,” she says.
“I didn’t tell you everything. That’s different. There’s still going to be a concert, but there’s no way I was going to be able to go through two hours holding back what I have to say to you.” I squeeze her hand. “Arianne, we’re total opposites in so many ways, but we fit as perfectly as a puzzle. Amazing, right?”
She nods.
“I fell for the melodic timbre of your voice since our first encounter took place in the darkness of an elevator in the middle of a power outage. The second the lights turned back on, I fell for all of you. I know you swore up and down we’d never see each other again once we were rescued. For the record, it was apparent you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
She laughs.
“Nearly two years later… here we are.”
More tears roll down her face.
“I kinda don’t want to live without you, baby.”
“Neither do I,” she says in a shaky voice.
“I love you so much, baby.”
“I love you with all my heart, Beckett.”
I flash her a coy smile.
“You and I are going to make beautiful babies one day soon I hope.”
She laughs in between tears.
I drop to one knee.
She gasps, but the sound is muffled by the crowd’s murmur of excitement.
“Arianne Buchanan, you’re it for me. Will you marry me?”
She waves her free hand in front of her face, hyperventilating.
I try again. “Will you be my wife?”
She shakes her head.
The crowd gasps in horror.
“No, no, no,” she says, waving a hand at the crowd.
