This poor kid.
He was going to crash and burn trying to give this speech.
“I could go on and on about everything that makes you gorgeous — your dimple, your beauty mark, your legs, your smile. But all of that is… to be frank, Mia, it’s so fucking boring compared to what really makes you beautiful.”
I arched a brow at that, and he smiled, shaking his head before he was pulling me to face him more squarely, his eyes searching mine.
I wished I’d worn my sunglasses out here now.
I wished I had something to hide behind, with how he was staring right through me.
“It’s your heart, and your soul,” he said, swallowing. “It’s how music lives within you even when you don’t intend for it to. It’s how you light up every room you walk into, how you love your family and your friends so fiercely. It’s the way you laugh, the way you cry, the way you open yourself to feeling every emotion life has to offer, never running from them even when I know they hurt.
“It’s the way you share that pain with the world, the way you embrace being vulnerable and ask us all to be brave enough to do the same. It’s the way you fight for what’s right, for your voice to be heard, forallvoices to be heard.”
His brows bent together, and he wet his lips, pausing for a moment like he wanted everything he said to be perfect.
Meanwhile, my heart was thundering now, building up the storm already raging inside me.
I couldn’t believe the things he was saying.
I couldn’t tell if he meant them, or if this was just some Oscar-worthy performance.
That confusion I felt last night quadrupled, and suddenly, I felt so lightheaded I had to grip the bar at the bow even tighter for fear I’d fall over.
“Mia, I have had the pleasure of watching you grow up,” he finally continued. “I have watched you transform from the girl who cared so much about what others thought of her to the woman who doesn’t give a damn, who inspires other girls all around the world to be exactly who they are and to love every piece of themselves.”
My eyes flooded with tears — and not because I willed them to.
He might have been faking it.
But this felt all too real to me.
“When we were younger, I told myself I was too much for you. When we were apart over the years, I told myself I wasn’t enough. But now, for reasons I will never pretend to know or understand, the universe has put us together again. It’s given me a chance I know I don’t deserve. But I can promise you this — I won’t waste it.”
I swore his hands were shaking a bit as he took mine in his, swore it wasn’t just in my head how his jaw tightened as he lowered himself down to one knee.
Fake, Mia.
Pretend.
All for show.
But those thoughts wouldn’t stick. The first tear slid down my cheek as soon as his knee hit the teak, my heart collapsing at the sight of him bent there before me the way I’d pictured in my dreams more times than I could count.
“I am an honest man,” he said, his voice deep but a bit shaky. “Even with myself. And I know I am not what you deserve. I know I fall short in so many ways. I know that I can be irrational, and loud, and broody and cold. I know I can shut the world out and do some really stupid shit. But I could never shut you out, Mia.” He swallowed. “And I could never stop loving you — no matter how hard I tried over the years.”
I blinked, two more hot tears searing my cheeks.
And my heart thundered at his words, at how believable he made them sound.
Fuck him for doing this to me.
Fuck him for saying that with his eyes locked on mine as if he actually meant it.
“I can’t promise I’ll be perfect. In fact, I know I’ll be everything but.” His hands squeezed mine before he peeled them away so he could reach into his jacket pocket. “But if you let me, I will love you with every fucked-up piece of who I am, with every shredded fiber of good I have left in me. I will protect you, and care for you. I will make you laugh. I will hold you when you cry. I will stand behind you and support you and celebrate you always.”
He paused, taking a breath as he pulled the midnight blue velvet box from the pocket of his sports coat.
