Page 105 of Mistletoe & Magic

“My husband,” I say, and try it, too.

We stand there for a minute and let the day pass through us. Every laugh, every hug, every time someone’s eyes went bright. The ring that flashes when I tip my hand and disappears when I curl my fingers.

“Tell me what you were thinking,” I say. “When you proposed.”

“That you would hopefully say yes,” he says, deadpan.

I swat his arm and he grins, then sobers. “I was thinking about all the ways I could have asked you and then I decided I wanted it to taste like the life we are building. Simple. Sweet. A little ridiculous. Something we could share with sticky fingers and a laugh.”

“That is exactly what it was.” I press my mouth to his. “Thank you for choosing me.”

“I will keep choosing you,” he says. “Every day.”

After dinner we sit in the library. Remy pulls the throw over our legs and Junie reads the first chapter of her new book aloud, sounding out the long words, confident on the small ones. She reads me the dedication as if it is a spell.

For everyone who ever wanted a home.

I lean into Remy until our shoulders are one line. My left hand rests on his knee. The ring is warm from my skin. It fits. It shines when I lift it. It disappears when I lace my fingers with his. Both are true. Both are right.

“Tomorrow,” he says, “we can start planning. Cake flavors, a list of songs. Those little lights you like in the trees.”

“Tomorrow,” I agree.

I think about the girl who arrived in this town with her heart scuffed and empty. I think about the woman who sits in this room now with a ring on her finger and a family wrapped around her like a quilt. I think about the way he saidpackage dealand made it sound like a gift. Because it is.

“Always yes,” I whisper, even though I already said it.

He tips my chin and nods like he knows I needed to say it twice. “Always yes,” he echoes.

Because in every lifetime, I’d choose them.