She smiles—full, sure, radiant. “I want to build a life with you—marriage, our little Samoan babies, all of it. Everything you told me about when you described what marriage means to you… that’s what I want too.”

Something inside me lets go. A rope pulled tight for too long, finally easing. And in its place, that wild, consuming hope I’ve been trying to keep at bay comes rushing in.

For a second, I can’t even speak. I just sit there, stunned, flooded with something so big it almost knocks me over. Joy. Relief. Love. All of it.

“Okay,” I manage.

She tilts her head, blinking. “Just… okay?”

“I’m absorbing,” I say, trying to rein in the dumb grin taking over my face. “This is a big shift from our last marriage conversation. You’ve surprised me. I wasn’t prepared for that kind of shift.”

Magnolia narrows her eyes at me, playful and confused all at once. “I just told you I want to be your wife and the mother of your children. This isn’t exactly the reaction I was expecting.”

I reach out, tugging on her hand. “Come here, babe.”

She stands, her eyes avoiding mine as she rounds the table. When she reaches me, she climbs onto my lap, straddling me, her legs sliding around my waist the way she’s done it hundreds of times before.

Her hands settle around my shoulders, but her brow is tight, confused, a little hurt. I hate that look on her face. I hate I put it there.

My hands grip her waist. She leans in, forehead pressed to mine, like she’s searching for the truth in my silence.

“It makes me so damn happy that you want to be my wife.”

“Does it?”

“Hell yes. Of course.”

Her body relaxes. “Then why not ask me?”

I close my eyes, breathing her in. “Because when I do, I want the proposal to be perfect. I only get one chance to ask you to be my wife. And I want it to be unforgettable.”

She exhales, and her lips curve into a half-smile against mine. “Whatever the moment looks like, it’ll be perfect because it’s you.”

She pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, her fingers gripping my shoulders. “And in the meantime?”

I rub my hands over her hips. “In the meantime, we love each other. And I remind you every day that you’re mine—until I get to call you my wife.”

Her throat works as she swallows, and the shine in her eyes isn’t confusion anymore—it’s hope. Peace. Love so big it doesn’t need to be said to be felt.

She leans in, brushing her lips against mine in a kiss that’s slow and deep and final in all the right ways.

I didn’t ask her to marry me tonight—but somehow, it still feels like she said yes.

Chapter 39