His gaze falls to my lips. And after a long moment, he breaks the quiet. “I want to marry you.” The words rock me back a little. He holds tighter. “Soon,” he continues on. “In the next year maybe?” His eyes rush mine, searching for confirmation, to ensure we’re on the same page. “Next year,” I smile and slap his arm in excitement. “What if we get married on 6-16?” He’s grinning. His sharp jawline and cheekbones just plain gorgeous. “Whatever you want.”
SOBBING
