Page 97 of Cameron's Contract

It was then she saw the boat’s new moniker.

The Mrs.

Her hands cupped her mouth.

Kneeling before her, I brought out the small black box. “Mia Lauren.” I lifted its lid. “Will you marry me?”

A breeze caught her hair, brushing it over her face.

It made her giggle.

I beamed up at her. “Now’s a good time to answer.”

“Yes, of course. Yes, yes, yes, oh Cameron,yes.”

I slid the ring onto her finger.

Her eyes widened in wonder at the elegant Asscher cut diamond.

She fell into my arms and I lifted her, laughing and spinning her around, feeling freer then I ever had and marveling that I’d found her.

I carried her along the dock, up the short steps, and onto the yacht.

Up and onto the upper deck.

The captain navigatedThe Mrs.out of the harbor and guided us out along the coast. The water, still like glass, reflecting the moon as we cut through. The boat left its transient mark.

Mia and I ate dinner and spent the rest of the evening dancing to R&B and jazz and endlessly talking. She might have talked more than me, but I loved every second of it.

Snuggled together, we leaned on the balustrade and savored the setting sun.

Our future looked something like that sunset, profoundly stunning, an array of scattered colors, a ray path of brilliant light in all its oranges and reds, melting on the horizon.

I believed this was really what Carl Jung meant about how nature thinks—that no matter how much pain we endure in life, if we wait long enough, eventually we’ll find our way back to a place where we’re no longer running and can find our center again.

Find ourselves.

A moment to just be.