The mover met me at the front door and took the box from me, lifting it away from my hands as though it weighed nothing. “Show off,” I muttered, watching him add it to the pile in the back of the truck.
“Is that it?” he asked, pulling the back door closed.
“That’s it,” I confirmed past the tightening in my throat.
“You sure you don’t want to ride with us? It’s no problem,” he said kindly, gesturing toward the bench seat that would already be tight with the two of them in the truck.
“Thank you, but my friend has already offered to drive me. I’ll see you at the other end.”
He lifted his hat in farewell and slid into the passenger seat as the engine of the truck roared to life. Leaning back against the door jam, I lifted a hand as they pulled out and looked around the street, wondering where Evie had got to. She had disappeared on an errand over an hour ago, promising she would get everything sorted and be here to drive me home.
Home.
As disbelief settled over me, I made my way back upstairs to lock up for the last time. I didn’t want to go back to Fankirth, but what other choice did I have? Starting over was the best course of action for me. I was smart and resourceful. Surely something would come up.
Desperately searching for alternative options, I didn’t register my open door at first. What did? The man standing by my window, his head down, looking at something in his palm. Frozen, I watched as he shook his head and turned toward me.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted. Startled eyes snapped up to mine, and a complex array of emotions played across his face.
“Darcy.”
Before I could blink, he strode across the room and pulled me into his arms. “I don’t deserve this, but please, just give me a minute,” he muttered into my hair, curling his huge body around mine as if afraid I would disappear. Well… I’d been about to do just that, hadn’t I?
I absorbed the feeling of his arms as though we had been separated for centuries. None of this made sense to me, but I wasn’t going to push him away. A shuddering breath left me as I leaned into his strength, and as I began to melt from the inside out, I realized he was saying something. A steady stream of consciousness flowed from his lips that I struggled to process.
“Sorry, what are you saying?” I asked, trying to catch up.
“I was going to fix myself,” he said, like that explained anything. When I watched him, waiting for anything else, he continued.
“I lost you once, and I wasn’t going to do it again. You were right when you said I was selfish. I’m going to be selfish again. I don’t deserve you. At all. But I’m going to make it so I do. I just need you here.”
“Kane, I quit my job. I can’t stay here,” I said as gently as I could.
“Move in with me. I have a shitty little apartment, and I’ve probably ruined any chance of getting on the team, but we can make it work.”
I shook my head, trying to understand the turn of events, and watch the color drain from his face. Reaching out a tentative hand, I gripped his wrist as best I could with hands far smaller than his. “How can you want to be with me after I killed our child?”
His mouth dropped open in a way that, in other circumstances, would have been comical.
“How can you possibly say that? I don’t blame you for that. There are a fuck load of people I do blame, but you’re nowhere on that list. Darcy, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I can’t lose you again, especially over shitty circumstances that were outside all of our control.”
He might have said more, but as the fact he didn’t blame me for everything that happened sank in, I closed the distance between us, firmly sealing my mouth over his. The kiss was salty with tears, mine and his, and the sweetest experience I had ever had, as we sank onto the floor and Kane pulled me into his lap without breaking contact with me. On a breath that came out more of a sob, I pressed my forehead into his, whispering, “I love you,” as my chest ached with a joy I was too scared to express.
Shifting us around, Kane reached into his pocket and held his fist up toward me.
“I swore to myself if I made the national team, I would make you my wife, but as it is, I don’t want to give you another chance to disappear. My nerves can’t take it. So even though it’s too soon, and even though I really don’t deserve you… will you please marry me? I will go to therapy. I will do whatever it takes to make you feel safe in this relationship, but please, don’t leave me.”
I answered with a kiss. Nodding against his mouth, I felt his hands seek out mine before the smooth slide of metal up my finger told me he’d understood my acceptance.
I looked down at the simple white gold ring, glittering on my finger and thought I’d never seen anything more perfect.
“I love you, Kane Bryson,” I muttered, flashing him a teary smile.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to call you Darcy Bryson,” he said with a grin, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.
“What if I want to keep my own name?” I teased.
“Then I’d be just fine being Kane Rowsthorn.”
