Page 237 of Hymns of the Broken
But we’ve got a twist planned. Just asherblindfold slips andshe’spanting, Jasper reaches for the gold tray. On it now, is a single black velvet box.
He presses it into her hand, leaning down so his lips brush her ear. “Open it, Sawyer.”
She fumbles with the clasp, breath catching when she sees what’s inside. A ring that isn’t delicate or classic but perfectly, utterly us—a heavy silver band with three stones set side by side: midnight blue for me, a black diamond for Jasper, and a sharp white diamond for her.
She freezes. “Wait—what…?”
I take her hand, kneeling at the edge of the bed as Jasper takes her other one doing the same thing. My heart pounding like I’m about to walk out on stage naked. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to either of us, Sawyer. We don’t want to do forever unless it’s with you—tied together, wild, complicated, and fucking real. Will you marry us?”
Jasper leans in, his voice gentle but steady. “All three of us. For good. You, me, and Riot, making a mess out of life—together.”
Sawyer bursts out laughing, tears streaking down her cheeks, shaking her head like she still can’t believe we’d ever go this far for her.
But she says yes. Of course she does. She always says yes to us.
And later, when we’re tangled up in each other, she keeps staring at her ring like she’s scared it’ll vanish if she blinks too long. Like this moment might slip through her fingers the same way too many others have.
She looks so fucking happy. And not just the giddy kind. It’s deeper than that. It’s the kind of happy that’s been survived for.
She doesn’t even realize it when she whispers it under her breath. “I don’t deserve this.”
“You never had to,” I say softly. “You just had to survive long enough to get here.”
She goes still in my arms, her breath catching as Jasper’s hand runs up her side, grounding her.
“You’re not hard to love, Sawyer,” I add, pressing my forehead to hers. “You were just surrounded by people too weak to try.”
Jasper hums low in agreement, his lips brushing her skin. “But we’re not them. We’ll never be them.”
Sawyer’s voice cracks when she finally speaks. “This doesn’t feel real.”
“It is,” I promise. “You made it real.”
Her fingers tighten around mine. Around the ring. Around everything she never thought she’d get to keep. And when she exhales again, it’s with a kind of peace I don’t think we’ve ever seen on her. Like she’s not just wearing the future that we gave her, but choosing it.
This is what forever feels like.
Jasper’s Epilogue
3 MONTHS LATER
If you’d told me a year and a half ago I’d be standing on top of a goddamn mountain in Yellowstone, heart pounding like a teenager, waiting to get married to the girl who ruined me, while standing next to the man who somehow became my second brother—I’d have said you needed your fucking head checked.
But here I am, and nothing has ever felt more right.
It’s late afternoon, the sun is dipping low and the sky looks like autumn gold and fire. The aspen trees around us burn yellow, and the air tastes crisp, cold enough to bite but perfect for this—our day. Macee’s crouched down with her camera, snapping shots of the sky, the cliffs, the little wildflowers peeking through the grass. She glances over, grinning. “If you assholes ever wanted a golden hour, this is it. I swear, you couldn’t pay for better light.”
Riot’s next to me, fingers twitching at his side, jaw set like he’s fighting off a full-body freakout. He keeps pacing, then stopping, then pacing again, running a hand through his hair. Every time a breeze shifts, he glances back at the dusty rental car like Sawyer’s going to magically appear if he stares hard enough.
Silas stands with us, tall and grinning, wearing a suit he probably hasn’t washed since hisownhigh school graduation. His eyes drift toward Macee more than once, and for once, I let it slide. If he’s gonna make a move, he will. Or maybe he already has and just hasn’t told me.
He got ordained for this moment—some sketchy online certificate probably printed from a public library. It’s crumpled and stuffed in his back pocket like a receipt. Still, he claps a hand on my shoulder like he’s officiated hundreds of weddings before this.
“You ready, little brother?” he grins. “No backing out now.”
I roll my eyes, but my hands won’t stop shaking. “I was ready the second I mether.”
And then, as if the universe finally takes pity on us, the car door opens. I hear the quiet scuff of Vans against stone. Macee lifts her camera. Riot stops breathing. I see his Adam’s apple jump like he’s trying to swallow his tongue.
