“If you think it’s necessary, then we can go and sign the papers whenever you want,” I say, noting the relief in his eyes.
“Thank you, baby.” His hand grips the back of my neck, and he pulls me to his lips. When his tongue meets mine, everything I planned to talk about fades away, and all I can think about is how good he feels against me.
“I love you,” he says, right before he pulls me on top of him, and I show him just how much I love him right back.
Epilogue
Owen
“Can you just tell me where we’re going?” Morgan asks as we drive down the coast. I’ve been planning this night for a year, and the fact that it’s finally here makes my hands shake. I might drive us off the road if I don’t hold onto the steering wheel hard enough.
“You know that’s not how surprises work,” I say, loving the earth-shattering smile she gives me as her head leans back against the seat of my truck, and her fingers twist with mine.
“Fine,” she mutters, causing a small smile to cross my face as we continue on. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman, and I’ve told her that almost every day for the last year. After that day in New Orleans, I vowed never to do anything that would make her run again. And I’ve stayed true to that promise, no matter how many arguments we’ve had.
“Baby, it’s your birthday. Can you please let me do this for you?” Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her looking at me. So, I turn my head, winking. She doesn’t say anything, just sits back and lets me drive.
When we reach our destination, she sits up in her seat, her eyes wide as she looks from me to what’s in front of her.
“How did you do this?” she asks, her voice a whisper as I bring her fingers to my lips and kiss them lightly. I say a silent prayer to her parents, who helped me set this up. Without them, I would never have been able to do it without Morgan figuring it out.
“Your parents love me,” I say, giving her my best cocky smile as she rolls her eyes and gets out of the car. It’s not a secret that they had some issues with me because of what happened last year, and still a little bit with our senior year of high school. But we all talked it out. Eventually, after months and months of proving to them that I wasn’t going to hurt their daughter, they finally caved and started to love me.
“This is beautiful,” she whispers as I take her hand and lead her onto the beach, past the few people left lying in the setting sun, and head straight for our spot. I’m surprised she didn’t know this is where we were headed. I didn’t hide it, and yet the look on her face right now tells me that it was all worth it. Her eyes scan the area, taking in the white blanket sitting under the pier, the bottle of rosé that I know is her favorite sitting in a bucket of ice to the side, and a home-cooked meal—courtesy of her parents because, let’s be honest, I can’t cook to save my life.
“You did all this?” She turns and looks at me in awe, and I swear my heart stops right then. She looks so beautiful with her blond hair falling freely down to her shoulders, her eyes piercing me as I watch her take in every aspect of what’s in front of her.
She’s mine.
And in a few minutes, I’m hoping she’ll be mine for a long, long time.
“M, baby, it’s your birthday. Did you honestly think I wasn’t going to do something?” There are instances, like right now, where I see a flash of uncertainty cross her face. A look that tells me she’s still haunted by what happened last year. I won’t sugarcoat anything and say it was a piece of cake after we came back home from New Orleans. It wasn’t. Morgan and I spent months and months going to therapy, making sure we understood each other’s desires and feelings and what it all meant to each of us and to us as a couple. I was never a big believer in therapy since I never had a reason to go, but it was important to Morgan, and therefore, it became important to me. It’s still a work in progress, something I know we’ll have to work at for the entirety of our relationship, but she’s worth it. We’re worth it, and every time I see that look cross her face, I walk toward her, cup her face in the palms of my hands and tell her exactly what she means to me. So, right now, I do exactly that.
“What are you doing?” she asks as I tilt her head back and look her directly in the eyes, smiling.
“You still have no idea, do you?” I whisper, taking her lips in a soft kiss that is supposed to last only a few seconds but turns heavy without me even trying. When we part, we’re both breathing heavily, and I lean my forehead against hers and close my eyes, trying to catch my breath. “You still don’t understand the magnitude with which I love you.” She sucks in a breath as her fingers grasp the sides of my hands that are still cupping her gorgeous face. “Morgan, you are my life, the reason I breathe, the reason I get up every morning with a smile on my face. This last year has been the best kind of wonderful, and when I came and got you in New Orleans, I made you a promise. I promised that I would spend the rest of my life making up for the fact that I made you question my love for you.” She starts shaking her head, and it’s in that moment that I sink down to one knee, holding her shaking hands in mine as I look up at the love of my life. She didn’t know I planned to do this today. She also doesn’t know there’s a surprise party waiting for her at home with all her friends and family, including Charly and Simon, who flew in this morning.
“Owen, what are you doing?” Her eyes widen and she looks around us. All I can do is smile.
“I thought it would be pretty obvious,” I tease, kissing the palm of each hand as tears stream down her face. “Morgan Lawson, you have been my best friend since we were twelve. There was never a day that went by that I didn’t wish you were mine, even when we were apart. You were always my endgame.” She smiles through her tears, and her hands start to shake as I grab the velvet box that’s been burning a hole in my pocket for weeks. “I promised you that you would never have to doubt my love for you, and so I’m asking you—no, I’m begging you—to be my wife. Because I don’t work without you.” Her tears fall freely now, but she still says nothing. My heart starts to beat out of my chest. “M? Will you marry me?”
“Yes! Yes. Of course, I’ll marry you!” she says, sinking to the blanket on the sand as I place the three-carat diamond ring on her finger, feeling my body settle, knowing that she’s mine forever.
“I love you with everything I have,” I whisper against her lips as her arms wrap around my neck.
“And I love you more than you know,” she replies, kissing me twice before we part.
I couldn’t ask for anything more than this moment.
She’s everything.
My everything.
THE END.
