Page 154 of In Case You Didn't Know

The man who waited outside with muffins. Who sees every part of me, even the broken pieces, and loves me anyway.

Tonight, I don’t have to write a happy ending.

Because I get to live it.

ASHER

The evening is sultry, the lawns lit with fairy lights, as I stand with the velvet ring box in my pocket, trying to ignore the wayFrancie’s brothers are staring at me like they’re deciding what size casket they’ll need to buy for me.

Autumn catches my eye from across the yard. She’s wearing a vintage chiffon dress and a hopeful smile, nudging Eden in the side and gesturing at me like she’s the conductor and I’m first violin.

She’s known about my plan since I ordered the ring a month ago. And she’s been dropping hints ever since. Her best one yet is the banner she strung up from the lighthouse.

From Cliffhangers to Happily Ever Aftersis written in huge silver foil letters, stretched over a chocolate fountain that the kids are clustered around, next to the Fabio lookalike the women of Liberty are trying very hard not to drool over.

But the only thing I can’t take my eyes off is Francie.

She’s across the garden, head tipped back in laughter, holding a glass of champagne as she talks to Skyler and Jesse. Her red dress hugs her like it was made just for her. Bold and soft. Fiery and elegant. Just like her.

And when she turns and catches my eye, the whole party fades to black.

The ring box is burning a hole in my pocket, but I force myself to breathe. To wait. Because this moment? It’s all hers.

Francie walks across the grass toward me, hips swaying, bare shoulders glowing under the lights. Her eyes lock with mine and my chest tightens with every step she takes.

I hold out my hand and she slips hers into it without hesitation. The moment our fingers lace, my body relaxes.

With my other hand, I reach into my pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. Not my phone this time. This story is handwritten, the ink smudged in the corner where my thumb pressed too hard.

“I wrote this while you were signing books today,” I murmur. “You were talking to readers, laughing, completely in yourelement. And all I could think was how lucky I am to be part of your story.”

She unfolds the note carefully, smoothing it between her fingers before she begins to read.

She didn’t need a hero. She never had.

She needed someone who would stand beside her in the storm,

Let her burn bright without dimming her fire,

And love her, not for who she might become, but for exactly who she is.

He’d never stop learning how to do that.

This is our chapter one. Here’s where we begin.

Francie blinks hard, tears catching on her lashes. She clutches the paper to her chest and opens her mouth, but no words come out.

So I do what I’ve been waiting all day to do. I drop to one knee.

There’s a breathless beat of silence. Her eyes widen, lips parting like she’s trying to breathe and think all at once. And I swear my heart’s about to pound through my chest.

“I’m so in love with you,” I say, my voice rough. “I’ve been in love with you for longer than you can even imagine. And if you say yes, I’ll spend the rest of my life learning how to deserve you.”

She doesn’t answer right away.

Instead, she lets the note float from her fingers to the ground, cups my face in her hands, and pulls me up. Just like she did the first time she kissed me outside the lighthouse.

Only this time, she’s not uncertain. She’s mine.