His face twisted in a battle between laughter and nerves. “Neither, I promise.”
He took a breath, and the shift was immediate—gone was the easy smirk, replaced by a look so serious it made my chest constrict.
“I had this whole thing planned,” he said, scratching at his jaw like the words were stuck there. “Some big speech. Maybe I was going to hack a plane banner or bribe the bakery to spell it out in eclairs. But I’m not good at those. And I don’t think you want a performance.”
He moved closer, just enough that I had to look up at him. I could feel his pulse through my palm.
“What I’m good at,” he went on, voice low and certain, “is recognizing a miracle when it smacks me in the face.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not very romantic.”
He smiled. “I disagree. It’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever said.” He took both my hands and held them together between us. “I spent a long time thinking I didn’t deserve any of this. Not you, not Noah, not even Pebbles, and she’s the world’s most forgiving horse. I thought maybe if I fixed enough things, if I built enough, or earned enough, or atoned enough, the universe might balance the books.”
He looked away for a second, squinting at the sun.
“But then you showed up. And you didn’t just accept me. You changed me. You made me want more, even when I was sure I shouldn’t.”
I had a joke ready, something to break the tension, but my throat was too tight to say it. The look on his face was too raw. He looked down, shaking his head. “You’re the only thing in my life that was never broken.”
For a moment, we just stood there, fingers tangled, feet buried in the wild grass. I was aware of everything: the way hishands trembled just a little, the clean sweat scent mixed with aftershave, the catch in his breath.
He went to one knee. Not with the kind of grace you see in movies—he nearly lost his balance on a root, had to steady himself—but the intention was unmistakable. Suddenly I understood why people always say time stands still. The world did a slow, syrupy shift, and all I could see was the way Ford looked up at me, equal parts cocky and terrified.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny velvet box. It was a simple kind, no fancy branding, a little lopsided on one corner, and vintage looking, which made it even more perfect.
He opened it, and inside was a ring that sparkled in the sun. Big—not huge, not flashy, but elegant and spare, the kind of thing you could wear every day and never get tired of looking at. The diamond caught a fleck of sunlight and set it dancing.
I stared at it for a full ten seconds before I remembered to breathe.
“Lily,” Ford said, voice steadier than I expected, “I love you. I love the way you laugh, and the way you love Noah, and the way you keep going even when the world’s been an asshole to you. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, caring for you. Proving to you that you made the right choice.”
He paused, and for a split second, his bravado faltered. “And just so you know, I already asked Noah, and he said it was cool as long as he got to be a dinosaur at the wedding.”
I barked a laugh, the tears already wetting my cheeks.
“So, what do you say? Will you marry me?”
For all the times I imagined this moment, I never thought it would feel so easy. So obvious.
“Yes,” I said, voice shaky but loud. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
His whole body sagged with relief. He stood, picked me up, and spun me around before I had a chance to get embarrassed.I buried my face in his neck, laughing and crying at the same time, the ring already cold and perfect on my finger
He set me down, hands on my shoulders, eyes searching my face. “You mean it?”
“I mean it,” I said, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. “Even if Noah comes dressed as a T-Rex.”
Ford kissed me. Not rushed, not urgent—just soft and steady, like he had all the time in the world.
The sun broke through the clouds. The breeze rippled the flowers. The horses wandered closer, Pebbles nudging my arm as if to ask if she could eat the velvet box.
For the first time in forever, I knew exactly what came next. It would be loud, and wild, and messy, and ours.
I held Ford’s hand, and together, we walked back home.
