Page 147 of Falling

“That’s stupid,” I mutter, and he just grins. I take in a deep breath. “Well, I’m going to say somethingreally reallynice, so here’s a warning, okay?”

He swallows. “Okay.”

“I love you, Miles.” The words leave my mouth with a whoosh, and Miles’s eyes soften as he looks at me intensely. “I should have said it weeks ago, but I didn’t know how to say it, so I’ve just come out with it.” He blinks at me, and more words keep spilling out of my mouth. “You’re my favorite person in this universe, Miles, and if there are any more universes out there, you’d be my favorite in each of those too. You’re my best friend. You make me feel like I’m the smartest person in the room even when I’m not. You made me realize that I don’t want to do things on my own anymore. I want to do things withyou.”

My voice cracks on the last word, and I tell myself to hold it together. Miles stares back at me like what I just said was the wrong thing. He takes a deep breath, and instead of responding, he wraps his arm around my neck and kisses me. He kisses me like it’s the first time, and I could drown in him. His mouth moves against mine softly at first, then with growing intensity. It's like every emotion we've both been holding back is pouring out all at once, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. His hands move to cup my face, his touch gentle and reassuring, grounding me in this moment.

When we finally pull apart, we're both breathless. Miles rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, and I can see the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. He opens his eyes and looks at me with a mixture of tenderness and wonder.

“I love you, Amelia Wren Hackerly,” he says quietly, his voice steady and full of conviction. “You’re my best friend, and I love being around you. I love being there for you and protecting you even when you don’t want me to. I don’t just love you, I’minlove with you. So desperately. I don’t think I would ever be able to stop loving you. If you try to push me away again, I won't let you. Because I'm in this, okay? Me and you.”

I try to breathe, but it’s hard. His words are like a balm to my soul, soothing all the fears and insecurities I’ve been carrying for so long. I feel my eyes well up with tears again, but this time, they’re tears of relief and overwhelming happiness.

“I don’t want to push you away,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I was so scared, but now… now I know. I know that I want you in my life, forever, if you’ll have me.”

He pulls me into a tight embrace, his warmth seeping into my bones, grounding me in the reality of this moment. “Forever sounds perfect to me, princess,” he murmurs against my hair.

There’s something about the severity of his voice that makes me realize that I won’t have to spend another day guessing my worth. That every day can be a great one if I let it. And I want to spend all of those days with him.

EPILOGUE

AUGUST — MILES

“Are you nervous?”

I run my hands from her shoulders down to her waist as I stand behind her in the mirror, losing my mind over how good she looks in her dress. I’m sure we’re breaking every wedding ritual right now, but I can’t bring myself to care. I know Kennedy would have my head if she saw that I was with Wren in her dress already.

I rest my chin on her shoulder, and she beams in the mirror. “No, I’m excited. One, I've never been here before, and two, I’ve never been a maid of honor before,” Wren says.

We’ve been in Jamaica for the last few days, trying to catch up on sleep as well as helping Wren do her bridal duties to her sister. Zion proposed to Austin earlier this summer and Wren cried literal tears when she told me. I know things have been hard between them, but they’ve been making it work.

As soon as we came off the plane, the humidity hit us worse than it was in Palm Springs. We were greeted by Zion’s large family and Austin and baby Marley, who flew out a week before. I don’t think I’ve seen a cuter baby than him, and he’s only a couplemonths old. He’s got the chubbiest little cheeks and the cutest dimples.

Ms. Hacks is still not open to the idea of Austin’s new life, but their dad has shown up like has been doing for the past few months. Talking to Wren’s dad is always the highlight of my day. He always has some story to tell about how crazy Wren was as a kid and I love it.

“I’m mostly excited for the food,” I say with a sigh. Wren turns around, her bright-green eyes staring into mine. “Do you know how long the service is going to take?”

“I hope you’re joking. This is a very special and romantic day,” she protests.

“I know, but can’t it be special and romanticandshort?”

The ceremony isspecial and it’s overly romantic, but it isnotshort.

Wren had to stand in her light-blue maid-of-honor dress at the front of the wedding aisle. I had to sit in the line of chairs in the blistering sunlight as we waited for more guests to arrive. We exchanged private moments since we couldn’t speak while Wren and the other bridesmaids waited for the ceremony to begin. Even when Austin came down the aisle in a white wedding dress, all I could focus on was Wren, beaming, with fresh happy tears welling up in her eyes.

Even when Marley started crying on Zion’s mom’s knee, I still couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. Being here in the sun, her freckles have appeared on her face and down her arms, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

When we finally get out of the heat, we’re moved into a large room with the AC on—thank God—where all the food and drinks are served. Jamaican food is incredible. I’ve always been a bigeater, and I would sit by the food table all day if it were socially acceptable.

I follow Wren around like a lost puppy, holding her bag as she greets all of Zion’s family and some of her family too. She gives an emotional and funny maid of honor speech, which has almost the entire room in tears.

When Zion and Austin have their first dance toIs This Loveby Bob Marley, we dance from a distance, her head resting on my shoulder as I rest my hand on her hip, swaying us to the music.

“They look so happy,” Wren whispers to me. I brush her shoulder with my hand reassuringly before she starts to cry for the hundredth time today.

“They do. But for the love of God, stop crying.”

“I can't help it,” she says, sobbing into me. For someone who hated crying when we first met, she’s cried a fuckton in the last few months. I rub circles on her back and change the subject.

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