God, she was going to be so dehydrated at the end of this day; she felt like she could cry for hours over this one precious, painful revelation. She didn’t need to ask if he meant it, because she knew it was true. She knew that the people in Will’s life who should have told him first had somehow thought they needed to save all their love for each other, and she felt sorry that they hadn’t given themselves the chance to say it to their son, too.

She wrapped her arms around him again, hugging him close. “I’m going to tell you all the time, all over the place,” she said. “Every morning, first thing. At night. In bed, at the dinner table, in the grocery store. I’ll blow up your phone with texts.”

She felt him smile against her hair.

“I’ll take it,” he said.

“And this might sound sort of funny at the moment, but I’m going to make sure I’m not the only one who says it to you.”

The people in the building behind her, they were already well on their way. Mrs. Salas crossed the finish line a long time ago, probably. Nora was going to make sure Will Sterling never wanted for love again.

“I’ll take that, too,” he whispered, maybe something pleasantly embarrassed in his voice.

“Hey, now!” That was Benny calling, and when Will and Nora turned he was standing by the back door with Jonah’s duffel, all her neighbors around him. “We’re going to go see the chief. Give you two some privacy.”

“Oh, are you two going to—”

“Do not finish that thought, Corrine,” said Marian. “We’re leaving.”

The group filed past, offering knowing smiles or small congratulations, a funny little applause dance from Mrs. Salas before they piled into two cars and went on their way, and then it was only the two of them out in this sunny expanse of backyard, the building suddenly a whole new future behind them.

Will tugged her hand toward it. “Come tell me you love me in a different location,” he said, his smile loose, easy, perfect. Happy.

She smiled back, teasing in the way she stalled him. “Wait a minute. What are we going to do about this tree you brought?”

“I’m going to plant it,” he said simply. “Right where the old one was. When it gets big enough, we can carve our initials into it. Sort of a memorial, right? To the day we almost met.”

Her heart skipped, remembering that day in his apartment, after he’d seen the photograph of his parents. After he’d told her he didn’t want anything serious.

“You’re sure about that?”

He leaned down and kissed her again, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip—brief, hot, full of promise. A forever sort of kiss.