Page 32 of Worth the Risk (Worth It All #1)
My breath catches. There’s something in Declan’s voice that makes my heart race with anticipation. The way he’s looking at me, the nervous energy I’ve been sensing for weeks—suddenly it all makes sense.
“Eighteen months ago, I thought I was investing in Highland Community Center. What I was actually doing was discovering what it means to find someone who fights for the same principles, who builds toward the same vision, who makes every day feel like an adventure worth sharing.”
I can barely breathe. Around us, Highland’s community has gone completely still, as if they sense something momentous is about to happen.
I see Rosa beaming from the kitchen doorway, tears streaming down her face.
Tita Sol has her hands clasped to her chest. Carlo is positioned with his camera, and I realize they’ve all been in on this secret.
“Maya, two years ago, you walked into my office with eight hundred and forty-three signatures and a determination to save Highland Community Center. You changed everything—my approach to business, my understanding of what makes developments valuable, my belief in what’s possible when two people work toward the same goals. ”
He drops to one knee, pulling out a ring box that catches the light from Highland’s new chandeliers.
“Maya Navarro, will you marry me? Will you spend your life building communities with me, fighting for what matters, proving that love and business and social responsibility can support each other?”
The silence feels eternal. Every emotion from the past eighteen months floods through me at once—the terror of nearly losing Highland, the wonder of watching Declan transform from corporate enemy to community partner, the deep joy of building something extraordinary together.
“Yes,” I say, my voice carrying clearly through Highland’s improved acoustics. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, I’ll build extraordinary things with you for the rest of our lives.”
The eruption of applause and cheers nearly brings down Highland’s renovated ceiling.
Declan slides the ring onto my finger—a beautiful vintage piece that perfectly matches the blend of tradition and innovation that defines everything we’ve built together—and then he’s kissing me while Highland’s community celebrates around us.
“I love you,” I murmur against his lips.
“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.
Thank you so much for reading Worth the Risk. I hope you enjoyed Maya and Declan’s story!