He grabs my shirt and tugs me into him, into an onslaught of his cologne and the essence of him as he nips at my mouth. “Why, indeed? Brat.”
“Brat?You’re talking about yourself, right? Because there’s no way you could know we have anything to celebrate, since I told my father to not call you with the news. However you found out was through dishonest means and doesn’t count.”
“Except”—Thio puts his finger on my chin—“Ihad your father callmefirst.”
I scowl at him. “No, you didn’t.”
“He told me about the verdict two hours ago. When did he call you?”
“I—” I calculate. “Gods damn it.”
Thio beams, smug in his victory, and I let him have this.
I like him happy.
“You’re conspiring with my dad behind my back.” I sneak my thumbs under his shirt, wanting skin contact. “Which is fitting, honestly, since I’ve been conspiring with your coworkers behind your back.”
Thio’s head jerks, wonder pulsing over him.
I activate the last spell.
Dozens of floating lights sparkle to life around us, delicate hovering flickers that coat the air. I made them green and spelled themto take the shape of ivy vines, so we’re encased in our own secret fairy garden on this roof.
Thio gazes up at them, the lights shimmering in his eyes, enhancing his awe.
But his head snaps down, surprise mixing with love and hope and promise.
We hold in a beat of watching each other, absorbing the moment, the anticipation.
Thio moves first—he steps back and slides a ring box out of his pocket.
My pulse quickens at the sight, and I almost feel bad for stopping him.
Almost.
He’s been with me through every fucked-up moment of this lawsuit. Through it advancing to trial, through my testimony and how I was basically catatonic for days after. He’s been there as he was juggling nursing school and his job here. He’s been there, even when his family tried to go after him for what I was doing.He’s been there.
He starts to sink to one knee—
When he bursts up with a squawk.
Thio whirls around, rubbing his ankle, frowning at the picnic blanket. “What the—?”
By the time he’s facing me again, I’m on one knee, my own ring box out and open.
“Thio,” I say, shocked I can talk at all with the intensity bearing down on me, happiness as unyielding as a dam, like it’s trying to force the question not to come too fast.
His lips part.
But he doesn’t stop me. Doesn’t fight to be the one to do it.
He just stares down at me, eyes tearing.
“I love you,” I get to tell him. “I’ve loved you through thinking I hated you. I’ve loved you through figuring out how to rely on one another. I’ve loved you through not knowing why you love me at all. Every day, getting to love you remains the greatest honor of my existence. Will you marry me?”
Thio gasps a laugh, composure threatening to topple him sideways. “Baby.”
My nose scrunches in a smile. “Yeah?”
