Chapter 64
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
preston
There’s now ten days left on Mia’s visa. It also marks the first and last time I lied to her. I told her we got an extension.
The truth is Liam’s lawyers did their magic.
I’m a free man, and Mia can stay in the States for good.
As much as I wanted the marriage-based green card, she deserves residency that stands in her own name.
She might say I’m in a hurry, but I’m only matching the speed of my pulse when she walks into a room.
Mia is the first choice I’ve made because I wanted it. I’ve lived a long life of honor and duty, of doing what I believed was right, not what I genuinely wanted.
And now? Now I want what’s mine to want: Mia.
She restores the part of me that forgot how to smile. She’s the hand that steadies the tremor I didn’t admit I had. Mia is proof that life is meant for more.
I crave the pleasure and pride of calling her my wife. Of seeing my ring on her finger. And fuck, what a ring that is. She’ll be walking around crooked to the left. Hopefully, a little smug too.
I made plans. Outrageous ones. Needed the whole team involved.
Callie is so hyped she’s carrying an inhaler now.
April’s coordinating everything in a way she’d make Mia proud.
Liam stepped up as father of the bride—sat me down, held the green card papers hostage, and wouldn’t hand them over until I’d heard him out. Threats to my life and all.
Lily’s in the dark. I won’t ask my kid to keep secrets. She’ll hear it all on the day.
I’ll take Mia to the federal office downtown, and they’ll wait at the building across from it. Balloons, champagne, confetti. Because there’s no wrong choice, no wrong answer. Of course I want her to be my wife, but she’s already what really matters.
My rebirth. My love. Mine.
* * *
It’s a school day, so Liam covers drop-off since Mia thinks her immigration appointment is at eight-thirty.
While she’s upstairs getting ready, I loop Lily in and hand her a bouquet by the door, ‘just in case’ Mia says yes.
Lily could rocket through the ceiling; instead, she climbs Uncle Liam, and they do a victory lap around the limousine he rented.
He lets me know he also booked a presidential suite for us.
Unnecessary, but I thank him anyway. He’s done so much for us already.
I park a block from the building, and we walk the rest of the way. She’s bracing for the interview, rehearsing answers. If only she knew the question that matters most isn’t on their clipboard, it’s sitting in my pocket.
Across the street, our friends are lying low in a coffee shop window, half-crouched behind the counter. April’s palm is clamped over Callie’s mouth while they both jump in place.
Mia looks up at the building we’re about to go in and whispers, “This is it.”
I echo the same words in my mind.
A horn bleats. Her breath fogs. I take her hand in mine.
“Baby, we’re not going in for an interview. There’s no extension. Your permanent residency was approved. That’s what we're going upstairs to collect.”
Her face scrunches up before she can manage a “What?”
“They’re waiting to stamp your passport. Immigration’s done.”
“How?” Her face still hasn’t rearranged back to normal.
“I’ve fallen for you first. And been waiting for you to take the fall too.
I knew you’d meet me, but I kept myself busy while I waited.
I needed you to stay. And I wanted to offer you a path that wasn’t tied to me.
I wanted to give you time. And space. You know, in case we weren’t”—I step closer—“here. At the end of your three months.”
God, how I treasure her trust. I wrap my hands around her waist and lean back so we can keep our eyes locked.
“So I asked Liam for help. Well, his lawyers. And you sort of helped, signing it all off, unaware of what exactly that was. I apologize for that. I swear, I just wanted you to have the option. We don’t even have to go upstairs if you don’t agree with this.”
Mia puts her hands on my shoulders. I’m not sure whether to steady herself or keep me at a distance.
“Preston Jett, start explaining yourself now, and fast.”
I scramble to string sentences together. “Of course. Ahem. So. Weeks ago, you signed a stack of forms Liam gave you and rushed you to get your biometrics done.” I tip my head. “Remember?”
Her eyes narrow. “Yes.” Pause. “He was in a hurry, I didn’t have time to read it all, and well… I trusted him. Something about new rules for Brits on tourist visas. Fucking Liam. What did I sign?”
“Liam’s lawyers filed an independent residency case. It was approved this morning. We go upstairs, they stamp your passport, and the green card comes by mail. This gives you permanent residency in the States. You’ll be here on your own footing.”
Mia blinks as if malfunctioning.
“But…” I start.
“There’s more?” She stumbles back, but thankfully, my grip on her is firm.
I breathe, steadying us both. “Truth is, I wish there was an equally fast green card for a bride.” Her head inches back.
“There isn’t. Not even Liam’s lawyers can pull that trick from a hat.
We’d have to marry first, then file. That’s why I set an NIW in motion.
” I wince, half-smiling. “I’m embarrassed to tell you exactly when I asked Liam to help. ”
The spark is back in her eyes. “Now you have to tell me.”
“Ask me again on our one-year anniversary.”
She’s steady enough, so I take her hands again. “But, Mia, that won’t stop me from asking for what I want.”
I drop to one knee.
Concrete bites through my slacks. The street goes soft at the edges—horns silence, footsteps blur—until it’s only her.
“Pres…” she says in a gasp, but I can’t stop now. I pull a black velvet box from my jacket pocket.
“Make me the happiest, luckiest man on this miserable yet miraculous planet, Mia.” Her eyes water before I finish the sentence.
“Can you call it rushing when it’s inevitable?
Because that’s where we’re headed. That’s what we are.
” My voice breaks, and I let it. “You are what I want, Mia. Today, and every day after. If this is too fast, we do it your way. But if you’ll have me”—I lift the box between us—“say yes.”
A single tear slips down her cheek, and my knee wobbles. I don’t dare read her.
I’m here to give her choices, I remind myself.
“There’s no wrong answer, Mia,” I say, steadying my voice.
“If you don’t have that three-letter word in you today, it doesn’t touch what we have.
If you’re not ready, this goes back in my nightstand and waits there, happily, until you are.
We move together, always, at your pace. I’ll ask you to marry me a hundred times, baby. I’ll wait.”
Her mouth curves—small at first, then wider—until she huffs a sound I take as a laugh.
“Would you open that box for me?” Her hands tremble; tears spilling faster now. They threaten her makeup, but the soft lines of black mascara down her cheeks make everything feel more real. “I’m afraid I might drop it and ruin the moment.”
“Are you saying ‘yes’?”
“If we’re inevitable, is there another answer?”
I bite my lower lip, the smile too big to hide. “I want to hear you say it anyway, baby.”
“Then ask me. I want the four words too.”
“Mia Thorne, will you marry me? Will you let me put a ring on your finger as a reminder that I choose you every day?” I can’t hold my tears any longer, they free fall, and the words come even easier now.
“You’re the future I can’t wait another second to start.
Will you give me the gift of calling you my wife? Will you take me and Lily as yours?”
Her breath stutters once. Then she breaks.
Mia drops to her knees and locks her arms around my neck, a full-body chokehold that knocks the air out of me and puts everything else back in place.
Oxygen feels optional right now. The box slips from my hand, clacks against the stone, but I find it by touch and hold on to her.
She doesn’t let go. Not for a long time. Not until my head starts spinning.
The sound she makes—something between a sob and a laugh—wrecks me in the best way. All I’ve been dreaming of is right here, clinging to my shoulders.
“I wanted four words, Preston. Not for you to sucker-punch me in the feelings.”
My words scrape through her chokehold. “Please, Mia. Put me out of my misery.”
“Yes, Pres. Yes, yes, YES.” She covers my face with kisses, the last one landing on my lips and lingering. My brain tells me it’s ceremonial. “I’m done being scared. Done overthinking. I’m in. Let’s make it official. If it matters to you, it matters to me.”
“Fuck, baby. Now I’m not sure marrying you once will be enough.”
She laughs her signature laugh—loud, careless, and melodic. “I’m sure Liam’s lawyers can find a way to make that happen too.”