Page 145 of The Long Way Home
I can feel the tears begin to prick behind my eyes.
“We both know this life isn’t guaranteed. This time we get together isn’t promised. And I don’t want another decade, or another year, or hell, another second to go by without being able to call you my wife. We may have taken the long way home,” he says softly, “but Sunny, youaremy home.”
His words suspend me between breaths.
“So no,” he says, leaning closer, “this isn’t impulsive. This isn’t a sex-fueled haze. I’m in love with you. And I have been in love with you long enough to know exactly what I’m asking.”
He brings his hand to my cheek. “So marry me, Sunny.”
“Rhett, yes.” I breathe. “A thousand times, yes.”
He kisses me, and for a moment, I swear time stalls. I’m suspended in this single breath, this single truth. Then he pulls the ring from the box and takes my hand, his fingers steady ashe slides it onto my finger. The cool weight of it settles there, and I blink hard, half-convinced I’m dreaming this whole thing. Maybe I’m in the sex fueled haze.
I shake my head, laughing softly through tears. “God, I love you.”
He smiles. “I love you too.”
“You know, you’re skipping several important steps,” I say weakly. “You could’ve asked me to move in first.”
“I don’t want you to just move in with me,” he says simply. “I want all of it. Every part.”
Epilogue
Rachel
4 months later
“There you are, beautiful.” Rhett presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “Late to your own party—that’s not very polite.”
I tap his chest, giving him my best forgive-me-for-being-late smile. “If it’s a party to celebrate me, then it doesn’t really start until I arrive, right?”
He leans closer, brushing my hair aside, and his lips hover just above my neck. “I missed you today,” he murmurs, and it is softer than a whisper, and full of that ache I’ve only just started to understand.
“Rhett…” I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady. “If you keep that up, we’re going to miss the party entirely.”
“You’re right.” A sly smirk curves his mouth. “Good thing we have a house, and a bed, and a kitchen counter we can continue this on tonight.”
I laugh quietly, warmth spreading through my chest. “I’m so happy I moved into your house.”
“Ourhouse, Sunny.”
He walks me back toward the table, hand resting at the small of my back, guiding me gently to where the rest of our friends sit.
I used to think that no matter what I did, no matter how I acted, no matter how much I tried, I would always be too much or not enough for someone. I tucked myself into little boxes, fit myself into whatever shape I thought people wanted. I wore the masks. But in the end, it never worked.
If I was loud, I was too loud. If I tried to fill a room with jokes, I was trying too hard. If I quieted down, I was boring. Invisible. If I tried to be kind, I was naive. If I tried to be bold, I was selfish. There was never a version of me that was just right.
I was always somebody’s something but never my own. The girl people tolerated, but didn’t quite choose. Too much or not enough, always swinging between extremes, never landing in the middle.
The only person I never had to perform for—the only person I have never had to twist myself into something else around—was Rhett. He has always been my constant. My home.
“Here she is, the woman of the hour!” Margo jumps up, hugging me tight. “Congratulations, Rach.”
Anderson gives me a quick smile. “Damn, Rach. Director looks good on you.”
I blush, warmth climbing my chest. “You guys are too sweet.”
Connor, Slone, Wes, and Lexi are all waiting in the booth, faces lit with smiles.
