You don’t catch the eyes of Grim without reason.
She took a puff of the cigarette, staring out at the ocean with her bright blue eyes. “So you, like, own my house now.” She blew smoke rings toward the ocean. “Does that mean my sister will be allowed back?”
I nodded.
“Ugh. Gross.”
But her lips quirked slightly. I fiddled with my skirt. I never thought I’d be in this position, owing Gemma Crowne.
I don’t know if Sonnet or I would have survived without her.
If I would have been able to handle Grim and the Horsemen without her.
If I would have ever found my way back to Grayson.
“So…Thank you.”
She scrunched her face at me like I’d just asked her to eat a bug. “Stooop,” she whined. “I’m going to need you and Grayson and everyone acting like fucking pod people to stop saying thank you and sorry and just—” She waved her cigarette in the air.
So, Grayson apologized then.
“Okay, so can you, like, please go?” She stamped her cigarette on the wall, annoyed. “I can’t smoke around you.”
I gave her a look, and she waved her hand around my boobs. “Doesn’t it, like, get into your breast milk or something?”
Nope, Gemma Crowne was definitely an enigma.
“Someone once told me the villain and the princess have a relationship too, even if it’s unwanted. Is he your villain? Or your hero?”
Gemma captured her plump lower lip between her top two teeth, brow furrowing. “He’s both.”
Seventy-Nine
GRAY
Story was looking out the window like the first time I’d come to her, and I was just as stricken then as I was now. Finally she was wearing her old clothes again—if not better quality.
Soft lace kissed her throat and wrapped around her wrists. White silk flowed over her gingerbread skin. She was a Victorian queen—my fucking queen.
I spent a month trying to think of the perfect way to propose to Snitch.
No ring was good enough for her.
No trinket could ever express my love.
Sonnet made a small sound and Story turned, smiling. Her eyes fell to Sonnet, then to me.
“Hi,” she whispered.
Story took Sonnet, and I wrapped my arms around them both, dragging Story to my chest.
We both looked out the window, not counting the minutes.
At peace.
Sonnet scrunched her nose at the breeze. The world outside was calm, like an old photo picked off the sand. The saltwater air smelled sweeter, the cawing of the seagulls muted and almost melodic.
Story leaned into my chest. “Why did you want to meet me here?”
I kissed the underside of her jaw. “I want you anywhere. But here…” I looked around at our room. “This place is ours, and I couldn’t do it anywhere else.”
She turned around in my embrace. She lightly fingered the green pocket square I’d stuffed into my suit. “You still have this?”
It was wrinkled, stained with blood, but yeah. I wasn’t about to throw it out.
“Grayson, I…” Her brow caved, and she held out Sonnet. “I don’t know if I can do this holding her.”
I pulled her into my arms. “Do what?”
“I’ve spent a month trying to think of the best way to do this… Everything feels so…underwhelming.” Her wide eyes met mine, pleading. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry this isn’t epic. I’m sorry it’s so much less than you deserve. I wanted to light the sky on fire for you. But each day, every idea felt worse. And I can’t go another fucking day waiting…so…”
My heart pounded with the sadness in her eyes, the hopelessness.
I was ready to tear apart whoever made her look like that.
“Snitch?”
Suddenly she dropped to her knees, hand holding mine.
My heart pounded. “What are you doing?”
She smiled at me, beautiful, white, and bright. “I’ve been thinking about my uncle’s wish a lot. His wish was for mine to come true…and it did. My wish was you. My wish was her. My wish was family. I know he wanted me to leave Crowne Hall, but that was because he never saw what you made it. My uncle loved you. He saw you before I did. He always used to say you were a sweet boy who was forced to grow thorns.” She swallowed, tears marbling her eyes. “You ripped out the thorns vining Crowne Hall. You made this place beautiful and bright again. I think he would be more than happy, I think he would be proud. Grayson Crowne, will you marry me?”
I exhaled.
Fuck.
“You fucked up my proposal, Snitch.”
STORY
Before I could say a word, Grayson dropped to his knees with me, pressing his forehead to mine, our child cushioned between us.
“I came here to propose to you, little wife.”
“Did you really?” My smile stretched my cheeks.
He shifted Sonnet and reached into his breast pocket, pulling out something thin and glass-blown.
“It’s a pen. Hand-blown. You have to dip it in ink to draw anything with it. Without ink it’s…unfinished.”
“The ink you gave me,” I said, touching my locket.
“Like the pen and the ink, I don’t work without you, Story Hale. I’ve broken thousands of promises to you. We’ve tied our knot thousands of different ways. Our love will always have a stain. Everyone will always see you as my mistress, as the girl who broke up my marriage. Everyone will always see me as the man who left his pregnant wife.
“I wanted to give you a perfect happily ever after, a perfect love, but you taught me that’s fantasy. What I want most—what I need—is you, us, this. So…will you love me imperfectly ever after? Ugly ever after? Sadly and hatefully and angrily ever after?”
I nodded crazily, my words stuck in my throat.
Too happy to speak.
He gripped my neck. “Say it.”
I exhaled the butterflies in my stomach. “Yes.”
“For real,” Grayson said. “Forever?”
“Forever, Grayson Crowne. For always.” God, that was like a weight off my chest.
Tears fell, and with them a heaviness, an ache, that had built, flowed out of me, and I could breathe. He thumbed my tears, a delicious smile spreading his cheeks, the dimples feathering with it.
“That’s my girl.” Then he kissed me, rough, slow, and with a closed mouth.
I wanted to crush myself against him, but we were careful to keep Sonnet safe.
And somehow that made it even more perfect, because it was another reminder of everything we had.
Our family.
He licked his lips. “From this day on, you don’t leave my side, do you understand? You’re in my bed every night, you’re beside me for breakfast, you’re mine. You’re home.”
“Yes.” It was all I could say as happiness choked my throat. “Yes.”
Home.
This moment finally belonged to me.
My love story was just beginning.
Eighty
THE EPILOGUE
STORY