When he pops open the jewelry box, the most gorgeous antique emerald ring is sitting there. It looks like an heirloom, something passed down for generations as it winks and sparkles at me. I feel the tears pouring down my cheeks and dropping to the floor.
“Of course I will.” My voice is a whisper, and then I’m diving for him as he reaches for me.
Our lips connect and we’re kissing through the salt of my tears, my body squeezed so close to Callum’s. He puts me down and slides the ring onto my finger, and I put my right hand over my mouth.
“Oh my God, we’re getting married.” I almost can’t believe it.
“You’re stuck with me, baby.” He grins, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I love you.” My hands frame his face.
“I love you so much. That ring belonged to my nana. She might have been just as feisty as you are, and just as unique.”
“It’s perfect. Gorgeous. Thank you for asking me. I want so many things in this life, but nothing more than you.”
Noise erupts in the doorway of the kitchen, and I realize that all of our friends just witnessed that. We turn to them, and my smile is the biggest one I’ve ever worn.
“We have a wedding to plan!” I cry in a moment of hysteria, and Taya and Amelie literally steal me from Callum’s arms.
Not for long, though, because then he’s hauling me up and taking me to the stairs.
“I have my ceremony!” I protest.
“We have some time.” His voice is husky but his grin is all boyish.
So I let him take me to his bedroom, even if it’s going to make us late. We have things to celebrate.
I’ve only ever loved one boy my entire life. He had me right from the start, and now he’ll have me forever.
When we were teenagers, we used to dream about a life when we were adults, could get married, and start our family. It always felt like something very far away, and something we’d have to work at. But now that I’m wearing his ring on my left hand, I realize that this moment is not as overwhelming and surreal as I once thought it would be.
It’s absolutely perfect. A perfect day in an imperfect life that we’re always attempting to love living together.
That’s all I could ever ask for.
EPILOGUE
CALLUM
Two Years Later
The timer on the microwave beeps, and I pull out the steaming bag of rice.
My fingers pinch the side, my feet quickly moving to the spot on the counter where I plan to put it before I burn my hand with the steam.
“It’s easier if you take it out with tongs.” Her voice comes from the entrance to our small galley kitchen.
“But what fun would that be when I can just test the limits of my skin?” I joke, setting the rice bag down and slicing it open with a knife.
Steam comes up in a plume from the top, and I pour the rice into the big serving dish I’ve already prepared with chicken, rice, and teriyaki sauce. I won’t say I’m a gourmet chef, but I get the job done. Since my day ends at three and Bevan is usually home around six, I typically tackle dinner while I’m coming up with lesson plans at the coffee table or grading health class assignments next to the stove.
“How was your first day?” she asks, shrugging off the navy blazer she donned for her legal assistant internship.
Underneath is a skimpy white silk tank top that disappears past the waistband of her matching navy pleated skirt, and she’s like Legal Barbie. Fuck me, I can’t help but walk to her, pull her into my arms and start nibbling on the strap of that tank.
“Callum, focus, dinner is getting cold.” She chuckles even as she leans into me, her breasts pressing against my chest.
“First day was good. Want dessert first,” I mumble into her collarbone as I lick the skin there.
“I’m hungry,” she whines as her stomach growls.
I stop my perusal of her body, knowing we both need to eat after long days, and kiss the tip of her nose before turning back to the counter. I stir the contents of the bowl one more time, then carry it over to our small dining table in the nook, where we eat most meals.
“The kids in most of my classes are good, but I have a few of the typical ones. Hotshot athlete who will someday be high school quarterback. Girl who wants nothing to do with gym class. Emotional ones who need to talk it out more than they need to play volleyball. It’ll be a fun year, I’m glad to be back with the teachers I’m friendly with,” I explain as Bevan wanders into our bedroom and I grab us silverware.
She emerges in one of my oversized T-shirts, and I can’t tell if she’s wearing shorts or underwear beneath because it’s so long. That only serves to make my dick harder than it was a moment before when I was nibbling on her neck.
“They’re a good group. Did Franklin breakup with his girlfriend, did we figure that out? Oh, and did Christine and Evan have their baby yet?” She’s all filled in on my work gossip, since it’s my second year working there, and since today was the first day of school, she wants the tea.
We sit down to dinner and I bring her up to speed. My improvised homemade meal seems to be one we’ll throw into our rotation because it’s pretty good.
Our apartment is a tiny thing closer to the Georgetown campus than it is to the school I teach at in Crystal City. But Bevan is usually studying late into the nights with her classmates, or hiking to early morning lectures, and I’m more than happy to take the metro to school. It gives me time to read or watch sports highlights from the night before.
The living space only consists of a tiny kitchen, our breakfast nook, a living room that’s only big enough to fit a love seat and a chair, then our one bathroom and the bedroom through a small hallway. All in all, it’s about seven hundred square feet and absolutely perfect for us. We pay an arm and a leg, even with it being student housing, but it’s doable, and it’s all ours. For the first time in our relationship, we’re really making it work just the two of us.
“Is your case going to trial?” I ask, rising to get a beer.
It’s been a long week already, and we both could use something to wind down with.
“They’re not sure if they’re settling yet. Which will mean more paperwork. Which just means more work for me.” Her sigh is there but it’s a happy one.
Bevan absolutely loves law school, and her job as a legal assistant at one of the best firms in the city. I think it surprised her just how much she took to it.
“I’ll stay up and watch sports whenever you need me to be here for moral support.” That’s what I usually do, watch whatever game is on television while she studies or researches.
“You’re the best.” She reaches for my hand across the table. “But if you ever leave your beard trimmings like they were on the bathroom sink this morning, I’ll gut you in your sleep.”
“There’s my fiancée.” I tip my beer in her direction.
Her ring flashes as she lifts her bottle and winks. The big day is planned for a year from now, practically the week after Bevan graduates law school. It’s going to be incredibly stressful and then she’ll have to start studying for the bar right after our honeymoon, but we didn’t want to wait any longer. I want her to be my wife, and she wants me to be her husband. Though the debate about whether she’ll take my last name is still up in the air.