I let myself cry until my tears become frozen to my eyes, until the sadness in my heart shifts to contentment, then I get up and make my way back to the truck, wiping the tears from my eyes.
‘Are you okay?’ Luke asks as I hop in and shut the door.
I give one last look at the cemetery and then turn to him. ‘You know what, I really, really I am.’ I can’t help myself. I lean over and kiss him because in the end, it’s all I need. Just Luke and I, and the certainty of our future.
Epilogue
Two years and one month later…
Luke
‘This scarf smells like cheese,’ I say, biting back a laugh. Please, let me take it off before the smell gets stuck in my nostrils.’
‘Still not taking it off,’ he says, clearing amused with himself.
I’ve been cracking jokes left and right for the last hour to entertain myself, since Luke won’t tell me where we’re driving to. It’s driving me crazy; Christmas day, a spontaneous trip for which I have to be blindfolded the entire time. What the hell? Yeah, that was pretty much my response when I opened my present and there was the little piece of paper which he’d put in the box with the scarf. It wasn’t a good a present as last year, but I’m assuming it’s because our whole ‘seize the holiday’ motto is starting to die down.
‘Pretty please.’ I clasp my hands together and give him my best begging look.
He chuckles. ‘No way.’
Dammit. It’s the eyes that always win him over. That’s why this isn’t working – because he can’t see my eyes.
Sighing, I give up and sit back in the seat, enduring the last half an hour in eager anticipation, listening to a tape that I know is labeled with my name.
Finally the truck stops and I hear him put it in park. I wait for him to tell me to take off the blindfold, but instead all I hear is him switching tapes, then he gets out of the truck.
What the hell?
I reach to take my blindfold off as ‘The River’ by Manchester Orchestra starts playing through the stereo, really, really loud. A memory tickles at my mind and I throw off the blindfold. ‘Oh my God.’ My jaw instantly drops at the sight of the snowy mountains and trees before me, highlighted by the headlights of his truck.
Luke is waiting for me at the front of the truck, kicking the tips of his boots against the snow with his hands in the pockets of his coat. It takes me a moment or two to get the courage to do so, knowing that once I step foot out the door everything is about to change. I have to really think about it. Do I want that change?
Yes, I do. God, do I want the change.
With a trembling heart and fingers, I push open the door and step outside, leaving the door open so the music can flow outside. Luke doesn’t look up at me until I’m halfway around the truck, about to step up to him.
His eyes are filled with nerves and he’s shivering either from the cold or from the fact that he’s clearly nervous. ‘Now, if you listen really quietly,’ he says, cupping his ear as he leans toward the trees. ‘You can hear the faintest sound of crazy animals.’
I press my lips together, trying not to smile at the fact that he remembers that almost two years ago I set up this scenario, when a guy proposed to a girl in a restaurant in what I thought was a very cliché way.
I make my way over to him and he reaches into his pocket to take something out. I hold my breath in anticipation but then frown in confusion when he holds out the silver bracelet that belonged to my mother.
‘I thought you should have this on when this happened, so that your parents could be with you in a way.’ I try not to cry as he puts the bracelet on my wrist, but a tear or two slips from my eyes. Then he steps back and pats his pockets before letting out a breath. ‘Now, I know getting down on one knee is a little cliché.’ His smile is all nerves but it’s ridiculously adorable. ‘But I’m going to do it anyway.’
I suck in a deep breath as he drops down to his knee right there in the snow. Then he pulls out a small black box from his jacket and holds it up. ‘Violet Hayes, will you marry me?’
He opens the box up and if I wasn’t already going to say yes, I would have now. Because what’s inside it is my ring – the purple one surrounded by onyx gems that I was once given as a Christmas present, before it was taken away. Of course it’s not the exact same ring. It looks a bit smaller, but a bit shiner. It looks a bit more perfect.
I’m not going to cry, I tell myself. Because even though I let myself feel everything now, I don’t want to be that girl that sobs like a baby because she’s going to get married.
But I turn into that girl, tears pouring out of my eyes as I nod my head. Then getting back my dignity, I say, ‘Hell yeah, I’ll marry you.’
He laughs, but it looks like tears are staining his eyes too, the big softy that he is. Then he gets to his feet, puts the ring on my finger, and kisses me the way he’s been kissing me every day for two years.
With passion.
With certainty.
With love.