Epilogue #2

His smile wobbled. “Because it’s not too much for me. You’re not too much. You’re just right.”

His hands reached up to brush the tears off my face, thumbs trembling as they swept under my eyes. His gaze moved across my features like he was trying to memorize me all over again, then settled into mine.

“So, Noah Rossi—”

“Yes,” I said, voice cracking.

Atty let out a soft laugh. “Will you let me ask?”

I gave a halfhearted nod, chest too tight to speak again.

He exhaled slowly. “Will you marry me?”

I didn’t even try to answer with words this time. I leaned forward and kissed him—barely registering the roar of cheers around us.

“Yes, Atty,” I whispered against his lips. “Of course I’ll fucking marry you.”

He kissed me again. And again.

Then he stopped—reaching for the little box, pulling out the ring, and sliding it onto my finger with trembling hands.

I stared up at him, everything in me aching with disbelief. “Is this actually happening?”

He nodded. “It’s real.”

“You sang Madonna for me. There’s a fucking choir behind us singing a song that—by the way—is about blow jobs and orgasms,” I said, dazed, breathless, half-laughing through the chaos of my feelings.

He laughed, too, dimples still going strong, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I was going to do it. I’ve been trying for years,” I said, not quite accusing—more like stunned that he’d somehow managed to beat me to it.

His fingers threaded through my hair, anchoring me in place. “Yes, but you give me this every day. I wanted the performance to be for you this time.”

He was the best fucking man on the planet.

I kissed him again—my stony, fallen-from-heaven angel—feeling him melt against my mouth, into the shape of us. I didn’t want to let go. Not even for a second.

“Can I say something?” The words tumbled out like I’d been waiting a lifetime to say them. “I’ve kind of run through this scenario a million times in my head, and there’s just one thing I’ve always wanted to say.”

Atty nodded.

I clutched the front of his jacket, trying to steady myself, trying to keep from dissolving entirely. “I don’t even know how it’s possible to love a person this much.”

His pale-blue eyes locked with mine, shining now, a small, tender smile pulling at his lips.

“You complete me, sweetheart,” I whispered. “You’ve turned nightmares into dreams, slayed invisible dragons, and broken a million curses I put on myself. And you did all that just by existing.”

He cupped the back of my head gently, his thumb brushing along my jaw.

“Practically from the moment I saw you—but most definitely after that first kiss—I knew you were it. You’re magic, Atty.

And now we get to have our happily ever after, and it’s all because of you.

You showed me what love could be. You made me want to fight for it—for us.

And I will. I’ll keep fighting for it every single day for the rest of our lives. ”

His forehead leaned into mine, and his breath warmed my cheek.

“Together,” he murmured.

“Always. Fucking always. The Atty and Noah Team.”

He let out a soft, broken sigh and kissed me again. The salt of our tears clung to our lips, mixing into something holy. Something only ours.

Because that’s what this had always been, hadn’t it? Atty and I—two halves of the same soul. This moment, these promises, and the vows we’d soon make…they were just the ceremony. The official stamp on something that had always been true.

We belonged to each other. Long before we met. Long before we knew what love even was.

And now, more than ever, I was certain—the universe had made us for one another. How else could you explain how perfectly every broken piece had found its match?

We stayed there, still on our knees, foreheads pressed together, lips brushing in between whispered declarations, lost in the quiet magic of it all.

Until our friends couldn’t take it anymore and burst forward, wrapping us in congratulations and laughter and every kind of joy.

And after all the cheering and hugging and chaos, we went home. Just him and me. Exactly the way it was always meant to be.

We lit candles and we slow-danced barefoot in our living room, swaying in each other’s arms under the low glow of the lights. We stole kisses. Whispered things we already knew. Let the night stretch long.

One absolutely perfect night, followed by the rest of our lives.

I thought about that day—after my dad passed—when everything inside me felt hollow and cold. I’d given up on life. Couldn’t even picture a way out of the dark I was in.

And yet somehow… Somehow, he’d found me.

Fate, or chance, or something greater dropped an angel into my path. And he stayed. He made me want to stay too.

He made me want to crawl out. To try. To believe I could save myself. That I could be the prince in my own fucked-up fairytale.

He made me want to live.

Not even in my wildest dreams could I have imagined this life.

But here I was. Choosing it. Choosing him. Letting myself believe I could be loved like this. That I deserved it.

No. Fuck that.

It wasn’t about worth.

We just were.

And I could accept that now. Bask in it. Sink into it fully.

And finally—finally—feel like I was good enough.

This was enough.

I am enough.

A quiet breath eased from my lungs, like the final thread of the past loosening its hold.

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