Page 159 of Merry Me
“And I was made to never stop loving you.”
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I had to laugh because I was dangerously close to ugly-crying in front of a crowd of strangers.
He exhaled, blinking like his own throat was tight. “So. What do you think?”
I wiped at my eyes, breathing hard. “It was fine.”
He blinked again. “Fine?”
“You’re gonna need to get on one knee if you want to propose properly.”
He tilted his head. “You’re literally holding a glitter sign. Glitter, Nat. That’s how you were proposing.”
“Glitter is the emotional equivalent of being on one knee, Easton. Everyone knows that. You gotta meet me halfway.”
He huffed out a laugh—low, incredulous, completely wrecked. “Unbelievable.”
But then, slowly, without looking away from me, he droppedto one knee. The crowd gasped, but he barely seemed to hear them. His gaze was steady, soft, shining.
“Natalie Bennett,” he said, his voice steadier than mine would ever be, “will you marry me?”
I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t breathe.
“Yes,” I whispered.
And the second I said it, the crowderupted—cheers, clapping, camera flashes—but all I saw was him, still kneeling, looking up at me like I held the stars in my hands.
I dropped the glitter sign and dove straight into his arms, and I felt the universe finally exhale around us.
And right there, tangled against him and the aftershock of everything, I whispered the only thing that mattered.
“I’m yours.”
EPILOGUE
NATALIE
ONE YEAR LATER
The limo smelled like new leather, champagne, and the kind of overpriced cologne Easton swore wasn’t “too much,” even though I caught two makeup artists swooning as we passed. I sat beside him in a floor-length black satin gown with a slit that made him lose his train of thought every time I shifted my leg.
Not that I minded.
“You’re staring,” I said as the car crept down the press gauntlet outside the theater.
“I’m married to the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said, shrugging, like it was just a fact. “I’m legally allowed to stare. It’s in our vows.”
“I don’t remember that part.”
“You were too busy crying because I said you were my miracle,” he said with a wink, reaching over to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “Also, you look like sin tonight. Like I should take you home before the press get a look at you.”
I arched a brow. “You really want to deprive the world of this?” I motioned to my whole vibe like a game-show girl showcasing a luxury yacht.
He leaned close, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear. “I’d rather unwrap my present in private, Mrs. Maddox.”
My breath hitched.
“Behave,” I whispered.
