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eighteen
Summer
“I’m pregnant,” I say.
Carter freezes for what feels like forever.
Then, he clasps his hands together behind his neck and stares at the freshly mown grass.
“Carter?”
He blows out a breath. “Are you sure?”
I curse the tears that start to leak from my eyes as I nod. “And it’s yours.”
Finally, he looks up at me. “Of course, it’s mine,” he says. “It’s mine because you’re my girl and that’s that.”
I swallow. “You’re not mad?”
He releases his grip on the back of his neck and gestures like a wild man. “How could I be mad at you, woman?”
I try to breathe, but it sounds like a sobbing gasp. “You’re not s-scared?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Of course I’m scared. Who gives a shit?”
“So, what do we do?” I ask.
“What do we do? We get married!”
How is everything so simple with this guy?
“You want to marry me? We barely know each other.”
“Please. I know you. I know you’re smart, witty, and kind. You’re optimistic in the darkest moments and make me see all the possibilities I can’t see when I’m lost in my own head. I know you in my soul.”
“Carter,” I blubber.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
With an exasperated grunt, he gets down on one knee. He takes my hand. “Summer Elizabeth Mosley, will you marry me?”
This is what I want.
I feel it in my gut. The hopeful side of me has not yet steered me wrong.
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Carter MacKenzie.”
epilogue
Summer
Four years later
My knuckles are white as they grip the dashboard.
I don’t know if I can do this.
