Page 154 of A Perfect Fit

I’ve missed him so much.

My love.

My everything.

When Jackson pulls apart from me, he ever so gently cradles my face like it’s something precious, his eyes still glossy. “I know we officially dated for a little over a month, but I’ve loved you for so much longer than that. I think I’ve loved you from when I knew you in high school, maybe even from that day when you accidentally spilled paint on me. You’re my first girlfriend, and you’ll be my last because this is forever. And⁠—”

“Wait,” I cut in, my heart beating fast. “I’m your first girlfriend?”

I’ve never asked Jackson about his relationship history; I just assumed he probably had other girlfriends before me.

He nods, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “It’s not that I never wanted a relationship. I’ve dated, but there wasn’t anyone I could see myself being long-term with. I surmise it might have something to do with the woman in front of me.”

“Surmise instead of guess or think? You really are a word nerd.”

Jackson flaunts me a grin, a genuine smile that shows off his dimples. God, how I’ve missed his beautiful smiles.

“My hobbies are memorizing every word in the Merriam-Webster and Oxford Dictionary, remember?” he says, referencing our conversation on that initial flight from London to New York.

A laugh falls from my mouth. “No more pushing me away. If you break my heart again, I’ll punch your pretty face.”

“I won’t,” Jackson says, sincerity in his eyes and voice. “I promise. You’re stuck with me, Isabelle.”

“Good.” I cup his face, and he leans into my touch. My lips tilt up in a smile, too.

“You told me you think I’m strong and resilient, but that’s exactly how I see you, too,” I add. “I’m so proud of you for quitting your job, chasing your architecture dreams, and going to therapy. That’s huge. And whatever happens next, I’m going to be there with you, every step of the way.”

Moisture fills his eyes, and he opens his mouth, as if to say something, before closing it and kissing me again, sending sparks through my veins.

Unspoken words drift in the air, matching the rhythm of our beating hearts.

But we say them anyway.

“I love you,” he breathes.

“I love you, too,” I whisper.

The warehouse fades around us, and as I stare into Jackson’s eyes, I can say with full certainty that he’s my perfect fit.

Until the end of time.

Epilogue

JACKSON

Eight Years Later

“Please join me in welcoming award-winning fashion designer Isabelle Carter!”

A loud round of applause erupts from the audience, and a proud grin forms on my face as I watch my wife—my beautiful, amazing, and talented wife—walk up to the stage and take her seat for her interview.

That’s right; I get to call Isabelle my wife, and every day, I wake up feeling so blessed that the woman I’m so deeply and madly in love with said yes to spending the rest of her life with me.

Isabelle’s gaze meets mine, a twinkle shining in her gorgeous brown eyes.

“Isabelle, welcome to The Michelle Anderson Show!” Michelle beams. “It feels like only yesterday when I was interviewing you for Sparkes Magazine.”

“Time really flies,” Isabelle says with a laugh. “Thank you for having me, Michelle.”