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He doesn’t release my hand during the drive to our new house.

We’re in a gated community, and the house we chose backs right up against the Everglades Wildlife Refuge.

Julian told me the house on the right is home to the heir of the multi-billion-dollar Running Oil Company, twenty-something-year-old Ibis Jacobi Lukariah III.

The house on the left used to be occupied by an old man who’d let his home deteriorate.

The yard is overgrown, the walls are beginning to crack, and the plants have turned black.

However, while he was moving in, Julian said the street was suddenly surrounded by emergency vehicles, and the old man’s body was being taken out on a stretcher.

From what Julian said, he hasn’t been back since.

During his absence, the neighborhood pitched in, working together to get his yard cleaned up.

Julian paid the landscape company that had been contracted by the previous owners to clean up the backyard.

Someone else did the front. Someone paid for the surface of the house to be fixed up as well.

By the time we pull into the driveway, I can’t even tell that it had been overrun. Okay, I can tell a little bit, compared to every other house on the road. But I also remember what it looked like in the video call, and this is a one-hundred percent improvement.

My attention only remains on the house beside ours for a short time because now I’m looking at the house we own together. It was fun trying to get my signature on our documents with me being seven thousand miles away, but we managed, and both our names are now on the deed.

I would have been fine if it had just been Julian’s name since it seemed to be a lot of trouble, but he insisted. He wanted this for us. Not going to lie. I love everything about that. It means the world to me it was so important to him.

And now that I’m standing in front of our house, I can’t do anything but stare. This is the beginning of a lifetime together. Filled with hockey and maybe my engineering career. Travel and memories and friends. A home.

It all begins right here.

Julian takes my hand and there’s no way I can hide the moisture in my eyes. I can’t believe this is real. It’s happening.

“Ready to see our house?”

Taking a breath, I nod. “Definitely.”

We leave my bags in the car and head inside.

I’m greeted by a long entryway with doors along the wall on either side, which open into the primary living space at the end.

The doors are open, and the doors themselves tuck into the wall.

I’m struck by the brightly patterned runner in the hall.

It’s very reminiscent of the one outside my bedroom door in India. The familiarity of it makes me smile.

I’m caught by other details as well. There’s a piece of art and an arched frame that’s very… oh, it’s a representation of Shiva! And there are pillows on the chairs that are rich with colors and patterns.

I place my hand on one, admiring the fabric, when the dining room beyond catches my eye. There are beautiful teal placemats and red porcelain plates with gold decorations.

“Oh,” I say as I finally recognize these items. After Julian told me I could add some color to the condo in Chicago, I went on a bit of a shopping spree and then promptly forgot about it.

“You didn’t tell me you had a dozen boxes coming,” Julian muses.

I give him a sheepish smile. “Sorry. It slipped my mind.”

His arm slides around my waist, and he rests his forehead on my shoulder. “I’m not mad at all. You might have to rearrange where I placed things, since I wasn’t sure of your intention for them. I’m pretty confident I got the dining table decent, at least.”

“It looks like a magazine,” I assure him. Not even exaggerating. The set looks better on this table than the one in the condo.

Julian takes me around the house until I see every room, and then leads me outside, where I nearly have a heart attack.

There are more than a dozen people in the backyard, all of whom I recognize.

Julian’s friends from Arizona, and the couple from New York and Toronto.

All our favorite people from our Chicago condo—Ellie and Paul, Skylar and her parents, James and Tobias.

Then there are people I don’t recognize.

Family resemblance says that the couple is Julian’s parents. Julian looks exactly like his father, just a couple of decades younger. Seriously, it’s uncanny to see how alike they look.

Then there’s one person I don’t recognize at all.

“My parents were a little upset that we had a ceremony in India and didn’t invite them,” Julian explains. “As were my friends and our neighbors in Chicago. So I thought, let’s have a little celebration here, with the most important people in our lives from the US and an officiant.”

This man is trying to make me cry. I’m sure of it. I turn to face him through blurry eyes. That smile. That smile that I get to see every single day for the rest of my life.

“What do you think?” Julian asks, gently brushing his fingers across my cheek. “Will you marry me again?”

“I will marry you every single day,” I tell him.

His lips press against mine. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, gripping his hair tightly. Every single day. Forever.