Page 82 of It's Just You

Epilogue Two

Finn

One year of living together.

Who would’ve guessed we’d make it that far? Certainly not me, but I always looked forward to going home no matter how many times I went home to Kane.

I opened the front door, stepping into our living room — the one room in the house where I wasn’t allowed to leave clothes laying around everywhere, so it stayed reasonably tidy. Kane had put his foot down on my sheer amount of stuff leaving the bedroom and spare bedroom.

His parents and brother had moved with us so they could be close, even though his dad was doing much better. He would never be completely healthy again, but at least he didn’t require around the clock care anymore.

“I’m home!” I called out when I didn’t see Kane immediately.

“Kitchen!”

I smiled when I heard his voice. I’d never, ever get tired of being with him. I walked into the kitchen, drinking in the sight of him.

“Hey.” His whole face broke out into a smile when he saw me, and he came to me to give me a kiss.

“Hey yourself.” I sniffed then turned to look at the stove. “Have you been cooking?”

He shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “Maybe. Let’s wait and see if it’s edible.”

I laughed. “All right. What’s the occasion? Or were you just feeling adventurous?”

Kane’s face grew serious. “Not really.” He looked away, suddenly shy.

That was the moment I noticed he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt instead of his usual sweats or work clothes. How long had he been home? What was up with the polo?

“Finn…” He trailed off, suddenly looking even more anxious. “I…” He hesitated, then slowly went down on one knee. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he took my hand, looking at me while also taking something out of his pocket.

I couldn’t hear anything for a moment over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears, but when he spoke, his voice was clear.

“You already know I love you more than anything. I know you thought I’d get tired of you, or I’d discover some kink I didn’t like, but none of that happened. I still love you more each day, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He paused.

My eyes were so wet that I couldn’t even see him clearly.

“Will you marry me?”

“Oh. My. God. Yes! Of course!”

Even through my tears, I could see the ring — something sparkly — which he placed on my finger, then I pulled him up and into an embrace.

“Did I make you wait too long?” he asked.

I smiled at him. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already been yours this whole time, ring or not.”

“Definitely,” he said, kissing me. “And you’ll always be mine.”

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