36. Jackson
Jackson
“ A gain! Again!”
Wyatt’s giggles echo off the trees as he and Ozzy fly down the snow-covered hill on the old wooden sled for what has to be the hundredth time. I watch from the top, hands shoved in my jacket pockets, heart doing somersaults in my chest like I’m the one barreling down the damn hill.
Ozzy’s laugh carries with the wind—bright and unfiltered—and I swear it damn near knocks me over.
Carter waves them in, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Alright, that’s it! We need to get your butt inside before you freeze solid, little man!”
“SPOIL SPORT!” Ozzy calls out with mock outrage, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold as she walks Wyatt back up the hill, dragging the sled behind her like a sledding queen who just lost her throne.
I chuckle, but my stomach is doing things that should be illegal.
Because today’s the day.
Today, I’m gonna ask her. Finally say it out loud and let it sit between us like the truth it’s always been.
It’s not that I’m unsure that she loves me. I just don’t want her to feel, trapped. But God… if she lets me love her the way I want to—without holding back—then maybe, just maybe, we’ll get the kind of forever that feels like coming home.
She makes it to the top of the hill, hair tucked beneath her beanie, eyes sparkling in the gray light. She’s panting slightly from the climb, brushing snow off her jeans.
“Dashing through the snow…” she sings off-key and obnoxious, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
“You’re an asshole.” I grin, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the mix of her shampoo and cold air.
“Yeah, and you knew that, and still thought, ‘Yeah, I want that one.’ I’m kind of concerned with your tastes, to be honest.”
I poke her forehead and shake my head. “I don’t regret it.”
She’s still catching her breath, still flushed and glowing. “Alright, well, I can’t feel my legs, so let’s go in and warm up under a blanket, yeah?”
She reaches for my hand.
But I don’t move.
“Ozzy.”
She blinks, pausing. “What?”
“I got something to ask you. And I want you to know it’s absolutely okay if you’re not ready, alright?”
Her expression shifts, brow furrowing with uncertainty. She lets out a nervous little laugh, trying to cover it with sass. “Okay? That’s not ominous or anything…”
I take a breath—a deep one. “You know I love you.”
Her lips part. Eyes wide. Her breath catches in a visible puff of air. “Really?!” she gasps in mock shock and I roll my eyes.
“Tink, two seconds of silence is all I’m asking for.” I keep going, voice low and steady even though my hands are shaking.
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.
Brave. Brilliant. The way you care—Ozzy, it knocks me on my ass.
You make every hard day feel like it has a reason.
You make this place feel like a home again.
You’re my world. You own my whole heart.
” My heart is damn near pounding through my ribs.
I fumble with my pocket, fingers stiff with cold as I dig out the box.
Her eyes widen for real this time, and she steps back, hand pressed to her chest.
“Oh god,” she whispers.
I drop to one knee, snow soaking through my jeans, but I don’t give a damn. I open the velvet box and look up at her—at my girl.
“As I said… you own my heart,” I repeat softly, the words thick in my throat. “And I’m hoping, in return, you’ll give me your hand. Ozzy Davenport… will you marry me?”
She collapses onto her knees, crying into my chest before I can even finish the sentence.
I wrap her in my arms, holding her while she sobs, the two of us kneeling in the snow like we’re the only people left on Earth.
“Is that a yes?” I chuckle softly, voice breaking with emotion.
She leans back, wipes her tears, and gives me a trembling smile. “Always.”
I slide the ring onto her finger—her hands shaking too much to do it herself. It fits like it was made for her. Because it was.
She lets out a watery laugh, pulling me back in for another kiss, snow falling soft around us as I hold her, as our future unfolds quietly, sweetly, and without question.
Forever isn’t a promise anymore.
It’s a beginning.