Page 52 of Pretty When It Burns (When The Lights Go Down #1)

Chapter forty-eight

"Yours" - Russell Dickerson

Grayson

Idon’t want to leave her.

Even with the monitors steady and the nurse swearing she’s stable—especially with her awake and looking at me like I’m her whole world—walking out of her room felt wrong.

But I have to do it.

She’s alive. She’d made it. I’m not going to waste another second pretending like I don’t already know exactly what I want.

I’d already told the hospital staff that she’s my fiancée.

It’s time to make it true.

Johanna and Rylee are waiting right outside the door when I step back into the hallway.

“She’s awake,” I tell them as the nurse slips inside. “She looks exhausted. She’s probably in pain. But she’s okay.”

Rylee covers her mouth, her eyes welling up instantly.

“Thank you, God,” she whispers.

Johanna lets out a long, sharp breath—like she’s been holding it in since she got the call. “You’re sure?”

“She squeezed my hand,” I say. “Looked right at me. She’s here.”

She closes her eyes and her shoulders visibly relax.

“You should go in, once the nurse is finished,” I add, glancing toward the door. “She’ll want to see you both.”

Rylee nods quickly, but then pauses. The look she gives me hits like a brick wall.

“You’re not staying?” she asks incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving her after she nearly died trying to get to you, dumbass.”

Johanna crosses her arms. “Seriously. I will knock you out.”

“No!” I say quickly, horrified they would even think that. “I need to go do something.”

Rylee narrows her eyes. “What could possibly be more important than—?”

“I need to go buy a ring.”

That gets their attention.

Johanna blinks. “Oh, my God. You’re serious.”

“I thought the fiancée thing was just a line to get you in the door,” Rylee says, stunned.

“It was never a line,” I admit. “Not since I thought I could lose her and have it not be true.”

They stare at me like I’d just grown a second head. Then Johanna smiles—just slightly—and Rylee begins wiping at her eyes again.

“She’s gonna say yes,” Rylee says quietly. “She might make you work for it. She should. But she’ll say yes.”

“I want to work for it,” I tell them. “I just don’t want to wait.”

Johanna nods. “Then go. We’ll stay with her. You just go.”

My phone tells me there’s a jeweler two blocks down from the hospital. It’s high-end, old school—the kind of place with the velvet-lined cases and price tags high enough to make your stomach drop.

The bell above the door chimes as I walk in.

The man behind the counter doesn’t look up right away. He’s polishing a ring like it’s the only thing in the world that matters.

When he finally does glance up at me—hoodie, worn-out boots, unshaven—he raises an eyebrow as if I’ve walked into the wrong store.

“Help you with something?” he asks carefully, Texas twang as thick as the nurse’s had been.

“I’m here to buy an engagement ring,” I say.

Both eyebrows go up. “Are you… sure?”

I laugh under my breath. “I know how this must look. I’m wearing last night’s stage clothes, haven’t slept, and might cry before I leave here—but yeah, I’m sure.”

That seems to be enough for him. He steps around the glass case and gives me a small nod of approval.

“Alrighty then. Let’s find her something good. Tell me about her.”

I blink. “Like… her ring size?”

He chuckles. “No, son. Tell me about her. What’s she like? I gotta know the girl before I can know her ring.”

I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling like I’m being given a pop quiz.

But Mia is my favorite subject.

“She’s like a breath of fresh air,” I say.

“She’s the most grounded person I’ve ever met.

She’s sharp, and so smart. She sees everything—and reads me like a damn book.

She’s always got her camera in her hand, seeing things through it that no one else would.

Makes everything she touches better—photos, people, me.

I wouldn’t be anywhere if it wasn’t for her. ”

He grins, and keeps listening.

“She’s got no idea how brilliant she is, which drives me crazy. She’s got this voice, too. And when she’s on stage with me? I light up in a way I haven’t in years. Most of the good in my life is her, easily.”

I pause, my throat tight. “She doesn’t care about appearances. She’s more comfortable in my clothes than her own, and she looks damn good in them. She’s my whole world and she has no idea.”

“And she puts up with you?” he asks sarcastically.

“Unfortunately for her, yes,” I smile.

“Well then,” he says, walking towards a small case near the back. “We’ll need something bold—something that makes a statement, but doesn’t try too hard.”

“That sounds like her,” I say.

He pulls out a tray of rings—delicate settings, all different cuts, nothing that screams celebrity, but all of them timeless.

“Like I said, she’s not flashy,” I say, scanning the tray. “She likes edge—and detail.”

“Got it,” he replies. “Not a princess cut girl.”

“God, no. She’d throw it at me.”

He laughs. “Okay then. What about this one?”

He pulls a closed ring box out of the case and sets it in front of me. When he opens the box and shows it to me—I just know.

An emerald-cut solitaire on a slim white gold band, with a halo of smaller diamonds circling the stone and lining the band. Elegant. Detailed. Quietly bold.

Something about it feels like her when I hold it in my hand.

“Yeah,” I say, barely above a whisper. “That’s it.”

He boxes it up, and I pull out my card with hands that won’t stop shaking. This feels nothing like the last time I’d done this. I don’t remember putting this much thought into it. I hadn’t wanted to.

This is different.

This is her.

The perfect ring for the perfect girl.

My perfect girl.

“Congratulations,” he says, passing me the little velvet box with care. “Hope she loves it the way you love her.”

“Me, too,” I say with a small smile tugging at the edge of my mouth. “Thanks again, man.”

The hospital lobby seems so different now.

Same buzzy lights. Same ugly-ass chairs. Just a little less chaotic, and a whole lot heavier.

I wrap my fingers around the velvet box in my pocket and make my way to the elevator. But it doesn’t take long to realize why the air feels so weighted—why something in me won’t let me move any farther.

One more test.

One more mountain to climb before I can make her mine forever.

Makenna, Macy, and their mother, Rebekah, stand in one of the waiting rooms off the main lobby looking like a damn jury. This isn’t going to be easy—not even a little. I know if I want to win over Mia, I need to win over her family first.

I stop in the doorway, bracing myself for impact as they notice me for the first time.

Makenna clocks me first. Her eyes narrow and she nudges Macy, who crosses her arms and looks like she’s ready to throw her coffee at me. Rebekah looks up last.

She doesn’t stand. She just stares—and somehow, that’s worse.

“Well,” Makenna says flatly. “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to come in and explain yourself?”

Classic Makenna. No time for pleasantries, apparently.

I walk in slowly, my palms somehow even sweatier than before, as I approach what can only be described as the Alexander equivalent of a courtroom.

Presiding judge: Makenna Alexander.

I didn’t realize I’d need a damn defense attorney.

Truth be told, I’ve never felt more unworthy in my life. But I’m not walking away without trying.

Makenna doesn’t waste any time. She’s probably been planning this moment since she got on the plane to come here.

“You’ve got the floor,” she says, crossing her legs in her chair like she’s settling in. “Make it count.”

I let out a slow breath, trying to steady myself.

“I know I’m probably not your favorite person right now,” I say. “Hell, I’m not even my own. I’m not going to make excuses, because I know they don’t matter. She’s what matters.”

They say nothing, but the look in their eyes demands more.

“I know how bad I messed this up,” I continue. “I knew long before I got the call about the accident. I shouldn’t have put her through that. I was stupid, stubborn, and selfish… scared out of my mind. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her, if she lets me.”

Macy looks at me, arms still folded. “You could’ve called her. Could’ve saved all of us a lot of heartbreak.”

“I wanted to,” I admit. “I picked up the phone a hundred times. And talked myself out of it a hundred more—because I hadn’t heard from her either. But that’s on me. I told her I needed space. She was just doing what I asked. I should’ve called. I regret that I didn’t.”

I look at each of them, then lock eyes with Rebekah.

“She’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. When I found out I almost lost her and she almost died trying to come home to me, that was it. I didn’t want there to be any more confusion.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out the velvet box, holding it steady in my palm.

“I love your daughter,” I say. “I want to marry her. Not because I almost lost her. Because I finally found her, and I never want to let go.”

“Oh, good grief,” Makenna groans, dragging her hands down her face. “Do you just propose to everyone? Didn’t you just get out of a marriage? Is this how you fix things?”

It takes everything I have not to rip into her.

I clench my jaw, letting the silence stretch long enough to swallow the first dozen responses I have before I look her right in the eye.

“No,” I say, my voice steady. “That’s how I messed things up.

I was young and stupid when I married my ex.

I asked the wrong person, for the wrong reasons, because I thought it was the right thing to do at the time.

I’m not going to let one broken choice from my past stop me from making the right one now. ”

She doesn’t respond at first.

But something in her eyes flickers—just briefly. Like maybe she’s expecting me to blow up. Or give up. And I do neither.

“Let me say it for you,” I continue before she can intervene. “You think I’m still young and stupid. You think this is reckless. But we’re the same age, Makenna. It may not look like it from the outside, but I’ve lived a hell of a lot of life the past twelve years.”

I take a breath, letting it settle in.

“I love your sister, and I’ll never stop protecting her. Just like you.”

A beat passes.

Then Macy shifts, speaking softly. “Kenna, I think you can let him off the hook now.”

Makenna doesn’t melt. It doesn’t make her instantly love me. But something in her face relaxes.

Then Macy turns to Rebekah. “Mom? What do you think?”

Rebekah hasn’t moved, letting her oldest daughter get her licks in. But when she speaks, her voice is clear.

“She’s always been the one who stays,” she says. “Through every hard thing. When her father left, she stayed with her sisters. With me. And then she stayed with you. With your mess.”

The last part hits like a direct shot—but it’s fair.

“Even when you pushed her away, she still packed a bag and got on a plane. She chased you, even when you told her not to. She loves harder than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“I know,” I say, my throat tight. “I don’t deserve it. But I want to. I’ll never forgive myself for making her feel like she had to chase me. I’ve always been hers.”

She stands from her chair and steps forward, close now, her eyes locked on mine.

“You don’t get to run next time,” she tells me. “Not when it’s hard—because it will be. Not when you’re grieving—because you will again. And not when you’re scared—because that’s life. It’s always scary.”

“Never again,” I promise.

Her gaze stays with me for a moment longer. Then, finally, she nods.

“Okay,” she says. “You have my blessing. But she still gets the final say.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Macy sniffs and rolls her eyes. “God, this is actually romantic.”

Makenna mutters, “If she says yes, I’m going to have to start being nice to you.”

And I smile for the first time since I got back to the hospital.

“I’ll take my chances… sis.”