Page 183 of Summer After Summer

I look around at the suitcases and tennis bags and boxes of shoes. “I feel like there’s too much stuff and also like I’m missing something.”

“You are.”

He takes my hand and helps me up. I fall against him in a way that would have been awkward a year ago. Now it’s just an opportunity to put my arms around his waist and nuzzle into his neck. I drink him in, that mix of woods and the beach.

“Don’t distract me,” he says.

“From what?”

“From this.”

He takes my hand and holds it in front of him. Then he takes a ring out of his pocket and slips it on my ring finger.

It’s a solitaire, tasteful, beautiful, exactly what I would have picked for myself.

Like Fred.

I stare at it, surprised, happy, nervous. “Is this what I think it is?”

“What do you think?”

“I think I want you to ask me.”

He smiles, then drops to one knee. “Like this?”

I laugh. “Go on.”

“Olivia Anne Taylor, I’ve loved you since I was seventeen. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Not because I’m sad, but because I’m happy. I’ve been so happy this last year and I don’t want to jinx it. I don’t want anything to change.

“It won’t jinx it,” Fred says.

“What?”

“Us getting married. Me proposing. It’s okay this time.”

“How did you read my mind?”

“I read your face. And also, I know you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

I stare into his eyes. There are no doubts there. There never were. The doubts were always mine.

But I know why, now. I’ve only loved one person as much as I love Fred, and she left me.

I can face that fear. The past doesn’t have to repeat itself. That’s something else I’ve learned—my mom was taking stock of her life and regretting some of her choices as she watched her time wind down. It doesn’t mean she wasn’t happy. And she’d want me to grab whatever happiness I could, I’m sure of it.

“Olivia? I’m kind of dying here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, yes, I’ll marry you—of course I will.”

I fall to my knees and we kiss. It’s slow and lingering, and if I didn’t have a plane to catch in a couple of hours, I’d pull him to the ground and get lost for the rest of the day.

He holds the sides of my face. “One more thing.”

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