Page 176 of The History Between

Leaning and waiting, the way I wished a thousand times he would be.

There’s no playing it cool this time. With bare feet and in an old wedding dress, I run across the parking lot and jump right into his arms, making him stumble and grunt before kissing him hard.

“You waited for me,” I tell him, my arms and legs wrapped around him like an octopus.

His eyes are bright. “You seemed like the kind of thing I should wait for, Rue Conway.”

“Really?” I ask, fighting a smile. “And why’s that?”

His lips twitch. “It’s not every day you meet someone who reads Tijuana bibles for creative inspiration.” I laugh at hiseight-year-old words, feeling them every bit of the way I did that first day. “And you’re beautiful.”

I slip from his arms and remember I’m wearing a wedding dress. “Oh.” I laugh at myself. “My mom,” I explain. “And sisters.”

He smiles a little. “You know what today is?”

“Friday?”

“July eleventh—one of my favorite days in history.”

Everything clicks into place then. Eight years ago today, Nash and I ran into a courthouse to hide from the rain and left married.

Behind the door of the store, my mom is holding her phone facing out with Reese’s face, and beside her, Remy, Bennie, and Sylvia are watching us, stupid smiles pressed against the glass.

Then I see it: the sign leaning against Old Vines that says Thirsty for History.

Nash is expanding ... to Fontain. He’s our new tenant.

Damn him.

I turn back to my husband, but he’s down on one knee, the beautiful ring I once stole from his nightstand in his hand. My smile nearly cracks me in two.

“Spend forever with me, Rue Conway.” It’s not a question; it doesn’t need to be. He slips the ring on my finger and looks at me with so much reverence I nearly combust. “In Fontain. In a house. With Bennie and Frank. Wherever you want me.”

“Forever might be a long time,” I tell him, feigning consideration as I take in the ring. “I have one condition.” I give him the envelope I’ve been holding, pausing long enough for him to open it and understanding to settle. “It’s Rue Fletcher now.”

He smiles then. The wide, eye-crinkling one that I love so much. “Rue Fletcher,” he says, tasting every letter as he stands. “I kind of like that.”

This time when he picks me up and presses his lips to mine, it comes with a brand-new truth: I get to kiss this man forever. Until I’m gone or he is. We’ll never run or push each other away again. It will always just be us, the way it always should have been.

My mom, sisters, Bennie—and even Sylvia—flood the parking lot as he spins me, all of us screaming and laughing as we gape at my ring. Nash hoists Bennie onto his shoulders, identical smiles on both their faces.

“I knew this would happen,” Sylvia says. “Didn’t I say this would happen?”

It’s almost as perfect as the day we got married.

And damn I wish Cap were here to see it.