“I brought food,” he calls. I hear him put a crinkly bag down on the counter, then toss his keys aside. “And I have something for you.” He sounds almost giddy, like he can’t wait another minute, either. The parallelism of us both being excited to share something important at the same time scratches a literary itch in my brain. We’re in sync, even when we don’t mean to be.

“Yeah?” I shout back, trying to keep my voice steady. There’s a little kernel of emotion building in me. Joy? Fear? I’m not sure, and it seems too soon to name it. “I have something for you, too.”

I step out into the hallway, and his dark eyes find me immediately. “Hey, beautiful,” he says, and it settles the anxious part inside of me. He comes around and hands me a small, rectangular package that’s been wrapped in newspaper. “I can’t wait. I picked this up today, and I was going to plan something special but…” He shrugs helplessly. “Me first?”

Laughing lightly, I start to carefully open it at the edges. “You got me a book?”

“For part one.” He ticks an eyebrow up, then motions me on impatiently. “Open it.”

“Okay, okay.” I tear the paper off to reveal a hardcover book. The title reads Stories and Second Chances, and underneath is a beautifully illustrated picture of Ryan and me, lying on a blanket in a park with books and open takeout containers of tacos strewn about.

“Oh,” I breathe as I delicately run my fingers over the image. “It’s us.” Looking up at him, all nervousness forgotten, I bite my lip. “What is this?”

Ryan smiles stiffly, like he knows this is a big fucking deal but doesn’t want to admit it. “I’m not the writer here, but I know good stories. I thought ours was a pretty good one. So, I wrote down some of it and hired an illustrator and got it printed. Look inside.”

I have a hard time taking my eyes off him, but his eagerness drives me to crack the book open. Each chapter starts with a beautiful illustration of us, and as I skim through them, I can see all of our best stories are there. Some of the tough ones, too, but that seems right. We’ve been through a lot, and each word has made us—even the hard ones.

When I get to what looks about halfway, I flip a page and am surprised to see a little part of the rest of the book hollowed out. Inside, there’s a gold ring with a single diamond. I take it out of the book, and when I look up, Ryan is on one knee, right there in the middle of his living room.

“Marry me, Scarlett,” he whispers.

“Oh my god,” I breathe. “Are you serious?”