Page 65 of Worth the Risk
“I love you too. More than quarterly reports, more than corporate success, more than anything I thought mattered before I met you.”
As Highland’s community surrounds us with congratulations and questions about wedding planning, I look around at the space that’s been the center of my life for twenty years. The building my father started with twenty-seven dollars and a dream. The community center I fought to save with eight hundred and forty-three signatures and desperate determination. The home that Declan helped transform into something even more beautiful than before.
Everyone wants to see the ring, to hear about our plans, to celebrate this moment that feels like the perfect culmination of everything we’ve built together. Rosa is already talking about catering our wedding, while Tita Sol insists that we must have traditional Filipino elements in the ceremony. Carlo is documenting everything, as always, ensuring that this moment becomes part of Highland’s permanent record.
“How long have you been planning this?” I ask Declan as we’re briefly pulled aside by well-wishers.
“Weeks,” he admits, his arm tight around my waist. “Rosa helped me coordinate with the plaque installation so everything would be perfect tonight. Tita Sol made sure the community would be here to witness it. And Carlo?—”
“Has been in charge of capturing every moment,” Carlo calls out with a grin, showing us his camera. “These photos are going in Highland’s next newsletter, and probably on every wall in the building.”
I laugh, overwhelmed by how perfectly orchestrated everything has been. This wasn’t just a proposal—it was a community celebration, a recognition that our love story has always been intertwined with Highland’s story.
Highland Community Center will thrive as a community-controlled gathering place. The Navarro Community Foundation will continue expanding, helping communities establish land trusts that prevent displacement. And Maya Navarro and Declan Pierce will spend their lives building something extraordinary together—one community, one development project, one shared dream at a time.
Sometimes the best partnerships are the ones that grow from fighting for the same principles, even when you start on opposite sides. Sometimes the best futures are built by people who understand that love isn’t just about two people—it’s about what two people can create together that makes the world more beautiful for everyone.
And sometimes the best proposals happen in the place where everything began, surrounded by the community that made it all possible.
Two years ago, I marched into Pierce Enterprises’ corporate tower to save Highland Community Center from demolition. Tonight, in Highland’s renovated main hall, the man who was supposed to be my enemy asked me to spend my life building communities with him.
Because in the end, some partnerships are worth the risk. And some love stories begin with eight hundred and forty-three signatures and a woman who refuses to give up.