Page 92 of Only Be Mine

He cooked dinners when I couldn’t eat. Took me places I’d never gone. Sat with me through silences that scared everyone else away. Loved me when I felt unlovable.

Something in him shifted then - not anger, not pressure, but resolve. He glanced back toward the sanctuary before turning to me again.

Trevor exhaled slowly. “Cate,” he said carefully, “If we do this… if we get married tomorrow… will you be happy?”

My chest tightened. I opened my mouth. Closed it again.

“Or,” he continued, voice barely steady, “will I always be standing in for him?”

I closed my eyes and pictured John - the way he used to tuck me into his side, the scent of him that never quite left. It hurt. It always would.

But I couldn’t live there forever.

I reached for Trevor’s face, my hands trembling. A tear slid down his cheek, and I brushed it away with my thumb.

“I love you,” I said. “And I love John too.”

He didn’t pull away.

“I know John isn’t coming back,” I added, my voice breaking. “But saying goodbye… it doesn’t feel finished. I don’t know if it ever will”

When I opened my eyes, Trevor was crying openly now. He wrapped his arms around me, holding on like the answer mattered more than the certainty.

“Does this mean…?” he asked.

“I’m going to marry you,” I said.

Relief surged through him, visible in every breath. He kissed my forehead, then took my hand and led me back toward the doors.

When we stepped into the sanctuary, the music swelled. Smiles turned toward us.

Applause rippled softly.

No one saw the fault line running through my chest.

We pulled into the parking lot of The Anchor Room, the understated sign for the fancy restaurant lit softly above the entrance. I scanned the lot before turning back to Trevor.

“I still can’t believe your parents picked this place.”

And, of course, we were the last ones to arrive.

Trevor’s mother, Joyce hurried over, hugging me tightly before guiding me to her side. My mom laughed with Trevor’s father across the table. Everyone looked happy.

I laughed when expected. Smiled when prompted. I listened to stories about Trevor as a boy, about his stubbornness, his kindness, his loyalty.

Someone said, “You’re so lucky.”

I nodded.

Across the table, Amy caught my eye. Her expression softened - proud, hopeful, relieved.

I wondered if she could see the truth anyway. The way some people always can.

Trevor ordered my favorite wine. I teased him about it, and for a moment, just one, I felt almost normal.

When Jim stood to toast us, the room quieted.

“To love,” he said. “To second chances. To choosing each other, even when life doesn’t go the way you planned.”