“I mean, you can stay, and we can get married since we’re eighteen, but then what?” I laugh, but then her words hit me, and I stop. It didn’t occur to me before she said it, but the words sound so right. I’m going to marry her. I see her chin tremble. “And if you come back . . .” But I press my finger over her lips. “I’m coming home.” And I take her face in my hands. “This doesn’t end.” “I love you,” she breathes out. And I kiss her, letting her feel my heart so she never doubts it. I’m going to marry her.
