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“I told you that you’re not supposed to read that stuff.”
“I’m still working on it.”
“Hmmm.” He kissed me, pulling a small red box from his pocket. “Tell you what. The next time they play, you should join them and bet on forever.”
He stepped back and got down on one knee.
I gasped as he grabbed my hand and looked up at me.
“I wanted to propose to you months ago,” he said, “but I knew that you would want the traditional approach, i.e., asking your parents, which is unfortunately impossible.”
“Please tell me that you didn’t ask my brother instead.”
“I did ask your brother.” He smiled. “He said, Hell no. But I did ask him.”
I laughed.
“He came around after a few days, though. Even if he hadn’t, I would’ve done this anyway.” He squeezed my hand.
“Penelope Carter, I’ve been in love with you since breakup number fifteen,” he said. “I wish I’d told you then, and that we’d never had to go through a Cold War at all.”
Tears pricked my eyes.
“Nonetheless, I’ll never put you through another one, and I want to spend the rest of my life as more than your boyfriend.” He looked deep into my eyes. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Yes.”
He slid a massive diamond ring onto my finger and kissed my hand before standing up. Pulling me into his arms, he kissed me until I was nearly breathless.
“I’m glad that you’re my first and last relationship,” he whispered against my lips.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I know that I’ll never have to give you a breakup title.”
* * *
THE END
