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If someone could fast forward twenty-five years, where would they find me and Bex? I hope, more than anything, that they’d see love between us. I hope we’re still standing shoulder to shoulder, no matter what we’ve had to endure. I hope we have children with Bex’s eyes and our shared determination. I hope we’re walking together on the beach, talking about everything and nothing. I hope I’m privileged enough to say that even my most ordinary moments are special because I get to share them with her. My wife.
I signal to my sister, who runs over and tugs on our brothers’ sweater sleeves. I take the ring out of my pocket. In my palm, it looks so small and delicate. It’s the strongest symbol I can think of to prove to Bex that our love is the forever kind. “Hey, Bex.” “Yeah, honey?” I sink onto one knee, holding out the ring. “Take a picture of me.”
“Beckett,” he begins. “Yes.” The word slips out before I can stop it. I fall to my knees on the sand, pulling him into a kiss, before he can get any further. “Yes, yes!” He pulls away, laughing. “Wait. Let me ask the question.”
“Beckett. From the moment I first saw you, I wanted to know you. And when you kissed me—” I can’t hold back a little sob, half amused at the memory of kissing him at that stupid frat party, half so overwhelmed by love I can’t stand it. “—I knew where I wanted us to end up. It took a little while, but I wouldn’t change the path for anything. Not when it led me to you.” “James,” I whisper. “I want every moment with you, good and bad. When I think of my future, you come to mind before anything else. I mean it.” “I know you do.”
“Will you do me the honor of marrying me?” “Yes.” I pull him close, breathing in the smell of his cologne, digging my nails into his skin. We tip backward onto the sand; I kiss him like that while we both laugh. He slides the ring onto my finger, pressing his lips to my hand. I know that his family is right there, I can hear their exclamations and congratulations, but in this moment, the only living thing in the world I’m truly aware of is James. No longer my boyfriend—my fiancé.
“Congratulations, both of you,” he says. “Bex, we’re so happy to call you family.” “Yes,” Sandra says, clapping her hands excitedly. “James already mentioned the wedding won’t be for a while, but whenever you’re ready, I know a few wedding planners.” “Want me to take photos?” Izzy says. “Like at graduation?”
“Beckett Wood Photography.” She bites her lip. “Well, I was thinking . . . maybe Beckett Callahan Photography. Even though we’re not getting married right away, I know I want your name, so why not use it now?”
She pokes me in the chest. “Well, I’d much rather have my husband’s name than my shitty absent dad’s.” “Here’s to that.” “Mom is changing her name back to her maiden name,” she adds. “She’s going to be Abby Clark again.”
