Page 173 of Dial F for Finance

“I will choose you when you’re certain and when you’re scared. When you let me in and when you need me to wait. In crowded rooms and every quiet morning that comes after this one. Tokyo. Chicago. Anywhere you decide to stand.

“You are my equal. My favorite human. The best thing that has ever refused to happen to me.

“I am yours, Jenna Marie Pemberton. Completely. And I will keep choosing you for as long as you’ll let me.”

My eyes were burning by the time he finished.

“You cheated,” I whispered.

Dominic’s thumb moved over my knuckles. “At vows?”

I nodded. “You made yours too good.”

“I’ve been preparing for this moment since I met you, sweetheart.”

“That’s deeply irritating.”

“I love you too.”

The officiant cleared his throat then, smiling. “Jenna?”

I looked down at the notecard in my hand.

“I had notes,” I sniffled. “They seem inadequate now.”

“You don’t need them,” Dominic whispered.

“That remains to be seen,” I said, taking a breath and doing my best to speak from the heart the way he did.

“Dominic Cruz, you are the least sensible decision I have ever made, and I would like it noted that the competition was not close.

“You are loud. Excessive. Frequently inappropriate. You own too many suits, too many buildings, and apparently enough influence to arrange a wedding in Tokyo with very little notice.

“You walk into every room as if joy is something you can generate by force. The irritating thing is, it usually works.

“For a long time, I told myself your charm was a performance. Then I started watching what happened around you. Lonely people were included. Overlooked people were seen. Help appeared before anyone had to ask.

“You turn attention into shelter.

“You have seen me when I was trying hardest to disappear. You remember my coffee, how I take my tea, my deadlines, my silences, and every sentence I immediately wished I could take back. You make me feel both wanted and included. And for once, needing that doesn’t feel like weakness.

“I promise never to ask you to become quieter, smaller, or easier for the world to understand. I promise to make room for all of you in my life. To notice when the man who takes care of everyone else needs care himself. To stand beside you, tell you the truth when sarcasm would be safer, and let myself be happy with you even when it terrifies me.

“I choose you recklessly, right here in this lifetime, because we only get one. You are my favorite bad idea. My favorite man. The only husband I want.

“And I love you.”

Tears streamed down both of our faces by the time I finished, and he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against mine, voice rough.

“Say that last part again.”

My laugh broke through the tears.

“No. You heard me.”

“I want it entered into the official record.”

“I love you, Dominic,” I whispered. “I choose you.”