Page 86 of Last Comes Fate

And yet.

Nothing faded.

Nothing disappeared.

Somehow, this moment was actually real.

Xavier Parker had just asked me to marry him.

Xavier cleared his throat. “Um, Ces?”

I blinked. “You…you love me, Xavi?”

He tipped his head as a delicate smile flirted with that generous mouth. “Haven’t I just been saying as much?”

“But…but you love me? Not how I mother Sofia or how I support you or what we do in the bedroom…or…”

One of Xavier’s hands gently closed over my mouth, then fell down to rest atop my knees.

“I loveyou, Ces,” he said solemnly, though humor still danced in his sapphire blues. “Those other things are wonderful, and they make you even more special, but I have always been and only ever will be deeply and desperately in love with you. Your heart. Your wit. Your dreams. Your soul.” He took a deep breath, glanced down at the ring in his hand, then back up at me. “So…will you? Woman, will you please fucking marry me?”

I searched his face for a long time. I know he had already answered my question, but some part of me, that shy little girl who had never quite learned that she was worth loving completely, was still looking for the lie. Some sign of insincerity.

A shifty expression. Fidgety fingers. A tremor in his voice.

But every part of Xavier remained still and steadfast.

And that part of me, small and scared, finally closed her eyes and relaxed.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Say it again.”

I blinked. Xavier’s eyes blazed bluer than ever and hotter than any fire. But they were focused completely on me.

“Say it again,” he repeated. “I need you to say it again.”

“Yes,” I said louder, more confidently as he slid the ring onto my finger, laughing as he did. The joyous sound filled the room and my heart. “Yes, Xavier Sato Parker, I will marry you.”

Because I couldn’t hold myself back any longer, I threw my arms around him, and he caught me amidst his joy. We both toppled onto the floor, giggling and grasping for each other, like we couldn’t get close enough.

It was different than before. Different than “pretending,” for sure, but also different than when we had been together.

Even in England, things between us had still just been pretend, in a way. We were trying on the relationship like I might try on a dress. Neither of us was fully committed because neither of us really believed we deserved this kind of happiness. Or maybe could fully believe it was real at all.

And maybe that was the way of most relationships, but I should have known from the moment I saw him in the middle of that party, from the time he chased me onto the street, from the second he finally kissed me in that bar all those years ago…it was never going to be practice with Xavier Parker.

It was always going to be forever.

And then he kissed me. At last.

His mouth captured mine as he rolled me onto my back, carefully bracing himself over my body like a long, lean cage. His mouth tasted of brandy and adoration, and his fingers threaded through my hair with reverence. This was what I’d been waiting for over the past weeks—really, years. This kiss wasn’t just passion or longing. No more nervous energy bound up in a pool of lust. Before, Xavier would devour me like a starving man, like someone who hadn’t had a drink in days.

But though he was no less voracious now, there was the way his jaw relaxed slightly or how his other hand traveled up and down my spine with total reverence rather than clinging like he might fall from a cliff.

In between kisses that left both of us breathless, Xavier laughed again and again. Deep and melodious, it was one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard.

It sounded like something deep inside of him had been set loose to run.

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