Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Lincoln
I kill the engine and sit in my car, parked just shy of Heather's driveway. In my chest, a drumbeat of nerves pulses loud enough to rival the cicadas serenading from the darkened trees.
You've got this. I grip the steering wheel like it's the only thing keeping me anchored. It's not every day a man decides to turn his life upside down for love. But that's exactly what I'm about to do—if I can muster the courage to say the words.
I let out a deep breath, the weight of my decision pressing down on me with the force of the years I've spent dedicating myself to everything but what really matters. It's funny how a single moment can redefine your whole existence.
Swallowing hard, I pry my hands from the wheel and step out into the night, my leather shoes crunching softly on the gravel. The walk up to her porch feels like a journey across continents. Every step is heavy with the gravity of what I'm about to propose—not just a question, but a lifetime.
At her door, my hand hovers for a second before I let my knuckles tap lightly against the wood. It's a soft knock, almost hesitant, betraying the tempest of emotions swirling within me.
Come on, heart, slow down . This isn't just about putting my heart on the line; it's about hoping that hers beats in rhythm with mine.
I take a step back, waiting, and it's in these suspended seconds that I understand the real comedy of love: no matter how much you plan, it's the unexpected laughs, the unplanned detours, that make the story that much better.
Here goes nothing—or maybe, just maybe, everything.
The door swings open, and there she is—Heather, looking like the embodiment of home with her soft smile that always seemed to reserve a secret just for me.
“Lincoln? What are you doing here so late?”
“Can we talk?”
“Of course, come in.” She steps aside, the gentle sweep of her arm ushering me into her living room.
I follow her lead, slipping off my jacket as I take in the room's quiet comfort. It is an extension of her—elegant, understated, inviting.
“Have a seat.” She gestures toward the couch.
Heather perches on the edge opposite me.
Reaching out, I take her hands in mine.
“I need you to know something.”
“Okay.”
I search her face. Here is a woman who has weathered storms.
My thumb brush across the softness of her knuckles. With every fiber of my being, despite my fears and the walls I’ve built around my heart, I am ready to tear them down for her.
“So I got offered another promotion at the hospital.” I watch as her eyes widened slightly, a silent question forming. Was she happy for me? Worried about what this meant for us?
“It's a big deal,” I continue, feeling the weight of each word before it left my lips. “More responsibility, longer hours…”
Her hands tense within mine.
“But I turned it down,” I blurt out, unable to bear the suspense in her gaze any longer.
“You did?”
“I did.” The words felt like an anchor dropping, tethering me to this moment, to this decision, to her. “Because when I thought about it - really thought about it - there was no competition. Not even close.”
“Lincoln…” Heather's voice trailed off, but her eyes held mine, emerald pools shimmering with unspoken emotions.
“Listen,” I leaned in closer, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
“I love my work. I love helping those kids. But more than that, I love... This. Us.” I squeeze her hands gently, willing her to understand the depth of my sincerity.
“And I realized that success doesn't mean a thing if I don't have someone to share it with.”
“Someone like me?”
“Exactly like you.” My response is immediate, unguarded. “Heather, I want a life with you. Here, in Lawson Ridge, where every corner reminds me of a memory we've yet to make. I want the mundane and the magical, as long as it's with you.”
“Wait, what are you saying?”
“I’m moving to Lawson Ridge permanently. Hopefully you’ll agree to move in with me, because I bought a house yesterday. It’s beautiful and perfect for when we start our family. I’ll stay working at the hospital, but my schedule will be more consistent.”
“Lincoln,” she whispers, her voice a tender caress against the gravity of our silence, “You do not buy a house for us?”
“I definitely did and I know you are going to love it.”
I reach into my pocket, feeling the small box that has become the heaviest thing I’ve ever carried.
Its mere presence is a promise, an anchor, a leap of faith.
Drawing it out, I watch her eyes widen just before I click it open to reveal the ring - a band of gleaming metal cradling a stone that catches the light and splinters it into a thousand hopeful shards.
“Heather Sullivan,” I begin, my throat tight with the enormity of the moment.
“I’ve walked through life believing that dedication to my work was the measure of my worth.
But that was before you reminded me that love is the truest path.
I'm asking, no, I'm hoping, that you'll let me walk that path with you. Will you marry me?”
Heather leans forward, her eyes radiant with the kind of joy that comes from finding the missing piece of one's soul.
“Lincoln,” she says, her voice steady despite the tears that now spill freely down her cheeks. “There's nothing I want more than to face all the days, both mundane and magical, with you.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Absolutely yes,” she laughs, the sound mingling with the quiet sobs of happiness that fills the room as we step together into a future that suddenly seemed bright with possibility.
“Can you imagine it?” I ask, twirling a lock of her hair around my finger. “A fall wedding right here in Lawson Ridge, with the leaves turning and the whole town coming together.”