That One Moment (Lost in London #2)(92)

…because I’m kneeling behind her.

She grabs the box and turns around with a puzzled look as she finds me on the ground. “Hayden?” she croaks, her mouth a strange mixture between an O and a smile.

“Vi,” I start with a sneaky smirk. “Open the box.”

She purses her lips together and with trembling hands, she strokes the lid that I’ve spent months hand-carving to make utterly perfect. It’s a baroque-style design, espresso-stained, wooden keepsake box. I carved in a round clock face with the time 11:11 engraved on the lid. Right next to it, there’s a tiny ornate genie lamp representing a wish. She swallows hard and opens the lid.

Inside are two cupcakes with a ring box nestled in between.

She smiles.

She cries.

She giggles.

She makes me the happiest f*cking man on Earth and I haven’t even asked her the question yet.

“Vilma Harris, will you marry me?”

My words are simple because I’ve spent the last year of our life together never wasting a single moment. If she looks beautiful, I tell her. If I love something she makes, I tell her. If she makes me spitting mad, I tell her. And then we fight. Hard.

And then we make up. Harder.

God do we make up. Vi makes me feel everything all the time. But mostly…she makes me feel alive.

“Yes,” she answers with a squealing sigh. “God, Hayden, yes! I will so marry you.”

She falls down on top of me, knocking me off balance and taking us both down as she goes. She giggles and smashes her lips into mine while clutching the box awkwardly between us. The corner digs into my chest and the pain is noticeable, but it’s also perfect because it’s not perfect. It’s exactly how life ought to be.

“Happy birthday, Bunny,” I murmur against her eager lips.

“I officially love my birthday.” She grins and kisses me sweetly once more.

I smile up at her and reply, “It’s about time.”



THE END