Page 144 of Quiet Longing

“Mine, too,” I whispered, and our gazes remained locked for a long time before Rhys seemed to recall something. He looked down and picked up the item he’d placed on the floor. At long last, I had the wherewithal to see what it was and found him holding a very small velvet box. Then he was opening the box, and I grew dizzy headed as I stared at the pretty, sparkling diamond.

“Charli,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “I hadn’t planned on asking you this until we’d been living together for a couple months, but I bought this a while back with a plan to—”

“Rhys Doyle, are you proposing to me right now?” I asked in disbelief.

A flash of tender annoyance moved across his face. “Hey, now, don’t spoil my surprise.”

“You are not proposing,” I said, and his expression warmed. He had the audacity to look amused at my shock.

“Why aren’t I proposing, Charli?”

“Because everyone’s going to think it’s a shotgun wedding.”

“Screw what people think. I know I always planned to ask you, baby or no baby, and right now, I’m kneeling in front of you, Charlotte Moretti, asking you to be my wife so you better say yes, or I swear to—”

I cut him off with a kiss, then a sob escaped me. It was too much. I was feeling too many things, and it felt like testing fate to have so many blessings in one day. Rhys and I had just moved in together, I was pregnant, and now, a wedding. Then I thought of all we’d been through, him and I, the long road to get to this moment and decided, no, it wasn’t testing fate. Rhys and I had lost each other for too long, but we’d found our way back, and we deserved to embrace every bit of happiness that came our way.

And that was why I pulled back, smiled at him, and replied, “Yes, Rhys Doyle, I would be honoured to become your wife.”

END.

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