Straightening his graduation gown, I then put his tassel on the right side to make sure everything’s perfect. Perfect is what our life has been. I shouldn’t jinx it, but I won’t discount the last nine months as anything less than magical. I lift and kiss him. “Are you ready?”

“As much as I ever will be.”

Graduation has put my emotions through the wringer. Not only am I graduating from college, but I’m moving away from the only town I’ve ever known, from my dad and Amanda. The only saving grace is that my new adventure comes packaged with my soul mate onboard.

Something tells me Harbor must be going through the same because he’s not quite been himself for a while. It’s not personal to me. He treats me like a queen, but I wish I knew how to make him feel better, to get him excited about the move to New Haven.

He says, “I should get in line.” When he takes my hand between us, it doesn’t feel like he’s holding it, but more that he’s holding on to me. My heart clenches. He kisses me, and then says, “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” He cups my face, not caring that we’re in front of hundreds of people. He kisses me hard with intention, with promises, with all of him. “I love you, Lark. Remember that, okay?” He winks and gives me that sexy smirk that captivates my heart all over again.

“Okay.” I swoon over this man so much. “I’m proud of you, too,” I say, but he’s too fast to tell him the same, disappearing into the buzzing crowd behind me.

Summerlin isn’t that far from Westcott in the scheme of things, but it feels like a million miles away right now.

We’re finally in a single file line when we feed into the gymnasium and take our seats. I look back to find him but don’t want to make a scene by standing. I don’t see him, so I turn back just as the ceremony begins.

We get through the first couple of speeches when I receive a text from my dad pinpointing where he’s sitting with Amanda. I look for the scoreboard and then in the middle of the rows, spotting them because Amanda is waving furiously to get my attention. My dad just raised his hand from his lap, but he’s grinning. Before I turn around, I scan the seats once more for Harbor. There are hundreds of graduates, but it shouldn’t be this hard to find the most gorgeous man alive.

Yet it is.

Another failed attempt has my chest tightening. I pull out my phone and text him: Where are you?

I wait for a reply, knowing it’s loud in here between the announcement of the graduate’s names and the people cheering. But why wouldn’t he feel it in his pocket?

Glancing back, I still can’t figure out where he would even be sitting. How many rows? How far over? He’s a big guy and hard to miss, but I’m missing him.