Page 172 of Trailer Trash

He opens a small box, revealing a sparkling diamond. He holds his bottom lip between his teeth, then takes a deep breath through his nose.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” he says. “It seems so long ago when I believed my lowly CNA was only a distraction. As time went by, I wanted you around more often. I convinced myself I was addicted. Then it got worse. I hated the idea of you becoming a replacement for Asher. You weren’t. You’re not a distraction, a drug, or a new best friend to replace the one I lost. You’re the woman who healed me the way no one else could.”

My hands shake. I cup my elbows in disbelief that this is happening.

“I want to be your husband. If you’ll be my wife, I promise you’ll feel how deeply I love you every day.”

This man I was never supposed to cross paths with wants to walk alongside me for the rest of my life.

“Okay,” I say, finally exhaling the breath I was holding.

His devastating and crooked smile appears. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

I’m thrust upward as he lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist and we kiss, right there on the beach with the seagulls squawking and people looking on — people who I didn’t know were watching. A few applaud, and somehow, knowing others were witnessing this makes it feel even better.

Killian is mine. He belongs to me. He chose me.

Every rational part of me knows three weeks of sobriety proves nothing. A diamond cannot cure him. Love cannot guarantee he’ll never spiral again.

I hear every warning.

I choose him anyway.

That’s what I try to explain to Keysha when I call her to share the news.

“I still think he’s dangerous,” she says.

“He is.”

“And you’re still marrying him?”

“Yes.”

She exhales. “Fine. I’m still standing beside you at the wedding. But if you disappear on me again, I’m coming with a gun and a police escort.”

“I know,” I murmur, “And I love you for it.”

47

Killian

I invited my family to Aria’s. Harlow’s nervous, but damn, she looks good in that dress. It’s hard to believe things are going so well. I didn’t know I could feel happy again.

This time, being at this restaurant is better. I can touch Harlow’s leg under the table because she’s mine. My ex isn’t here. My family will see I am better.

My parents seem stiff. Jagger shows up with a big grin, and River arrives without Nina. I don’t ask why. After what Harlow and I discussed, I’m relieved she isn’t here.

We hug each other and take our seats around a circular table.

I don’t mince words. I don’t want to.

“I’m sober still,” I start.

“That’s what you said on the phone,” Dad replies, appearing skeptical.

“For how long?” Jagger asks.