Page 113 of Resist

He chuckled. “Is that so?”

I shrugged. “It is.”

Lucas spun me away from his body then twirled me back again, his chest pressed to my back his arms hugging me tightly as he directed us both to walk out of the marquee and onto the candlelit boardwalk over the beach.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he let me go and placed his hand in mine.

He nodded to the little park bench on the boardwalk. “Over there.”

Taking a seat, I waited for him to do the same, but he knelt in front of me instead.

“So, we’ve established we’re not having kids, but how about marriage?” He pulled a velvet box from his trouser pocket and chuckled to himself. “Appears I only need one hand to do this as well.”

My hand shot up to cover my mouth as I gasped, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Before you say no,” he continued. “Or that it’s too soon—”

“Yes.” I grabbed his face and smashed a kiss onto his lips. “Yes!”

“But I haven’t even asked yet,” he mumbled, his cheeks squished underneath my hands.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I let him go and wiped the tears that had pooled in my eyes.

“I was going to say that before you say no or that it’s too soon, this ring doesn’t mean we have to get married tomorrow or the next day, or even next year. I just want it to mean that when you’re ready, I’ll be ready to love you for the rest of my life.” He shrugged and slid the white gold, diamond ring onto my finger. “But you said yes already, so … fucking awesome.”

Laughing through my tears, I held out my hand, my fingers spread, the diamond glittering in the moonlight.

“It matches your eyes,” he said, smiling with adoration.

“Lucas Malone, how did I get so lucky for you to love me the way you do?”

“It’s got nothing to do with luck, baby. I told you… I’m magic.”

I whacked his arm. “You are not.”

He winced, and I instantly dropped to my knees beside him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Lucas lifted his hand to touch my face but didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. Every fibre of him spoke of love. Love for me, love for us, love for life.

It’s a funny thing, love. It knows no age, no scepticism, no judgement nor right or wrong. Love is honesty in its purest form. It looks beyond flaws and lies and says, ‘I’ll love you anyway’, and it cannot be forced, coerced, mimicked, orresisted.

Love is magic, and I’m my own magician.

The End