I laugh, thinking it’s to his credit that he actually makes an effort to do that.
“And,” Dean says, his deep voice washing over me like the sun, “you know you’ll always be my beauty.”
I fumble for a tissue from my purse to swipe my eyes. I do know all that. I’ve known since the day we met, like a tiny seed was planted right in the center of my heart and has blossomed over the years into a thousand flowers.
“But there are a few things you don’t know.” Dean reaches up with his other hand to brush a tear off my cheek. “You don’t know that I never dared to believe a woman like you existed in the world, much less that you’d ever love me or let me love you. You don’t know that you fulfilled a million secret wishes I didn’t even realize I had.
“You don’t know that I started believing in impossible things after I met you. Maybe a person could slide down a rainbow or taste the clouds or count to infinity. Why not, if there was Liv in the world? The stars shone brighter, the colors of the world became more vivid, everything was clearer, happier, better. All because of you.”
“You’d better stop, professor.” I scrub my eyes again and disentangle my hand from his so I can press my palm against his chest. “I’m a pregnant woman who is about to end up on the floor from sheer excess of emotion.”
Dean smiles and then, to my surprise, he goes down on one knee in front of me. I wipe away my tears again.
“Olivia West,” Dean says. “My best friend, my wife, my girl, my key to everything good, my beauty. Will you marry me?”
“Will I…” I swallow past the tightness in my throat. “You… you’re proposing to me?”
“I’m proposing to you.”
“This is why you asked me to meet you here?”
“This is why.”
“But—”
“I never asked you to marry me,” Dean says.
I blink. “What?”
“When we were at that antique shop.” Dean rises to his feet and settles his hands on my shoulders. “I bought you the cameo ring, but I never asked you to marry me.”
“You didn’t?”
He shakes his head.
I think back to that day when I’d stood at the counter as Dean pulled out his wallet and said he hadn’t bought me an engagement ring yet. I remember being a little confused by his disbelief when I’d said I would love to be his wife, but I’d been so flooded with exhilaration and love that I hadn’t even noticed he didn’t actually ask the question.
“Well,” I finally say, “it’s a good thing I read between the lines then, isn’t it?”
“A very good thing,” Dean agrees, amusement lighting his eyes. “But you deserve a real proposal, so I’m asking you now. Will you marry me?”
“Oh!” I realize I haven’t even responded yet. I clutch Dean’s hands as an immense happiness and excitement course through me. “Of course, love of my life. I’ll marry you over and over again, until the end of time. Yes. Yes.”
A smile breaks over Dean’s face as he hauls me against him in one of those enveloping, tight hugs that secures the world beneath us and presses our heartbeats together.
“Give me a kiss, beauty,” he murmurs.
He cups the back of my head as I reach up to press my lips against his. My soul sprouts wings that lift me through the air, twirling and spinning.
When we ease away from each other, Dean reaches into his pocket. I wipe the lingering tears from my cheeks as he extends a small box. Inside is a silver band engraved with two keys and the words Liv and Dean.
Dean takes the ring from me and slips it onto my finger alongside my wedding band. I look from the ring to him, overwhelmed by the immensity of the love between us and its power to banish our fear.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” I say. “That we found each other and flew in love. How strong we are together, how much more we’ve become because we know how to love each other. How so much has changed…”
Dean is looking at me as if I’m the answer to all the questions in the world.
“Some things will never change, Liv,” he says. “We’ll always fall asleep and wake up together. I’ll always make you coffee in the morning and tease you about your bathrobe. We’ll always love each other to distraction, argue, hold hands, and kiss an awful lot. And I promise you that no matter what, we’ll always have us.”
I smile at him. I know this to the center of my soul. Like milk and cookies, pencil and paper, the moon and stars, please and thank you, movies and popcorn… Dean and I belong together.
We lift our left hands at the same time and place our palms together. Our wedding bands click softly as we entwine our fingers.
“You and me, professor.”
“You and me, beauty.”