Page 60 of Dirty Mechanic

She doesn’t speak.

Just stares.

The fairy lights twinkle around her like fireflies. The potted apple tree leans slightly in the breeze. And for a second, I see it—the dream she didn’t dare hope for.

“I thought we could plant it together,” I say, stepping beside her. “After the ceremony. Your brother and Emma have their cherry trees. We’ll have our apples. When it grows big enough, we’ll carve today’s date into the bark.”

Her hand rises to her chest. Her fingers tremble.

I move her closer to the tree, each step echoing with a quiet certainty, though my heart hammers like I’m walking a tightrope strung between past and future. When she looks up and our eyes lock, time stills. In hers, I see wonder, disbelief… and something deeper. Something fierce and fragile and forever.

“You said you wanted a surprise,” I add, voice thick.

Her fingers touch her lips. She turns to me slowly. Her voice is barely more than a breath, trembling and raw. “This… this is breathtaking.”

I reach for her hand just as the rooftop door creaks open behind us?—

Emma waddles out first, smug and radiant, her fingers laced with Eric’s. Their baby rests on her hip, chubby-cheeked and apple juice–stained, blinking at the fairy lights like he’s seeing magic for the first time.

Then Misty steps out, serene and glowing, followed by Blake—carrying a small, leather-bound book like it’s made of gold.

But it’s not just them.

Ethan and Joanne appear next, arms linked. Her mom dabs at the corner of her eye with a lace handkerchief. Her dad looks stunned in a suit that doesn’t quite fit, caught somewhere between pride and disbelief. My parents, Walter and Lena, step forward too. Dad’s wearing that bolo tie he saves for Easter. Mom’s already weeping.

Caroline rounds out the crowd, stepping into the light to officiate the ceremony.

Beside me, Annabelle gasps.

I glance at her, barefoot, glowing in the fairy lights, and her summer dress embroidered with apple blossoms swaying in the breeze. Her lips part. I can feel her heart hammering against her ribs, synced with mine.

Blake grins, handing Caroline the book. “Hope you’re ready. Because you’re getting married under the stars.”

Annabelle turns to me, stunned. “You… you did this?”

“I had help.”

Emma winks, rocking the baby. “We figured you’d say yes if he didn’t screw it up.”

Annabelle’s eyes shimmer. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re breathtaking,” I whisper, lifting her hand to my chest. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me. Marry me. Right now. Beside that tree. Under this sky. Stay with me forever.”

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Yes,” she whispers. “Always yes.”

Caroline clears her throat, holding the little book like it’s scripture. “Ahem. If everyone’s ready…”

The ceremony begins.

And it’s quiet, and cozy. Like the valley itself is holding its breath.

We speak our vows, low and close, not for the crowd, but for each other. Blake and Misty press the rings into our palms. Emma rests her head against Eric, their baby tugging at his collar, babbling nonsense like he’s blessing the moment.

The apple tree beside us glows pink in the moonlight, a silent witness to everything we’re about to become.

Ethan and Joanne stand arm in arm, eyes glassy. My parents exchange a look that belongs to forty years of love and one unshakable truth—they finally see me whole.

And when I kiss Annabelle—my wife—it isn’t fire.