“One more thing,” I say, pulling the envelope from my jacket.
I hand it to her, and she opens it slowly, brows pulling together the moment she sees what’s inside.
“What the fuck is all this money?” she says, voice sharp but cracking.
“That’s everything you paid Linda for this place,” I tell her. “I saved every dollar.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, glassy and confused.
“Your father never believed in you,” I say, “but I did. You paid rent, you were responsible for it, and you made it happen. You should be fucking proud of yourself. Don’t let anyone ever make you think you weren’t enough, don’t ever let them dim your light.”
Her lip quivers as she clutches the envelope to her chest, and she falls into me. “I love you,” she chokes out into my neck.
I close my eyes as I press my lips to her temple. “Can I ask you something?” I whisper against her hair.
She nods against my chest.
“What’s with the purple pansies?” I glance toward the little vase on the counter where I set a fresh bouquet earlier this morning.
“They were my mom’s favorite,” she says quietly. “Bright and loud, just like her. She lit up every room she walked into.”
She pauses, exhaling shakily. “When things got dark, I would try to focus on color in life—any kind. To try andhelp me remember what this life was worth living for. Sometimes it worked, but not always.”
Her hands shake slightly as she brushes a stray tear from her cheek.
“I tried to fill the emptiness with stuff. Alcohol. Spending. Drugs. My last attempt… I hoped that if I disappeared loud enough, he’d finally notice. But he didn’t, and that was enough for me.”
I cup her jaw, brushing my thumb beneath her eye as another tear falls.
She lifts her glassy eyes to mine. “Everything was black and white until I came here,” she whispers. “Finding this place, finding you, it brought me back to life. You’re the color in my world, Carter. You’re my spark.”
I kiss her passionately. Full of every word I can’t say.
I pull back just enough to speak the only words that matter.
“Be my wife.”
Her eyes go wide, as her lips part in stunned silence. “What?”
“Marry me, Catalina,” I whisper, “be mine forever.”
She doesn’t say yes. She launches into my arms, laughing, crying, and kissing me all at once, both of us crash into the sage, velvet chair behind us like something straight out of the messy love story we never saw coming.
Her arms are around my neck, her smile pressed to my mouth, and my hands are full of her—of the life we built out of every broken piece we refused to let define us.
In the middle of a bookstore filled with smut, matcha, and second chances, the wildest woman I’ve ever loved says yes without a single word.
epilogue
. . .
Catalina
One year later
The breeze smells like wildflowers and fresh-cut grass, and somewhere behind me, Maverick is cursing at the Bluetooth speaker while Layla laughs too loudly.
But my focus is locked on one thing.
