18. Dante
eighteen
Dante
Epilogue
The crisp autumn wind bites at my face, carrying the scent of damp earth and the crisp leaves crunching beneath the tires of my bike.
Behind me, Margot’s arms are locked tight around my waist, her front pressed flush against my back as my taillights cut through the twilight.
Purposely taking an extra turn or two to enjoy having this woman behind me, we eventually pull into a grass lot full of cars parked in rows.
I rumble to a stop at the entrance of Meadow Falls’ fairgrounds, the engine idling low before I kill it. Ahead of us, strings of golden lights cut through the darkening evening sky, casting a warm glow over the food trucks and the late-night crowds.
Margot is so eager to get off the seat she practically scrambles away from me after tugging off her helmet, her eyes reflecting the bright neon lights of the midway as my back completely loses her warmth.
I swing my leg over the frame, getting off as she turns to look at me, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold ride.
"The last time I was here, I was fifteen," she says, tugging her jacket tighter. "I dragged one of Madalyn's bodyguards along and ate so much fair food that I threw up on the spinning tea cups. It was terrible."
Should such a haunting memory make her beam brighter than the lights decorating the joint?
A genuine smile cracks my face. "Yeah? In that case, it’s going to take some serious convincing to get me on any kind of ride tonight. Not in the mood to stand in the splash zone."
Margot scoffs as the back of her hand taps my chest. She then grabs my hand, her fingers sliding between mine. "We have to at least ride the Ferris wheel," she insists, already pulling me toward the gate.
I let out a matching scoff, though I don't loosen my grip on her for a second. "What if I'm afraid of heights?"
She stops, looking me up and down with a challenging glint in her eyes. "Is there anything you're actually afraid of?"
I look down at her, the playful curve of her mouth, the utter safety she feels right here in the open with me. The truth hits heavy and sudden in my chest.
I'm terrified of anything ever happening to you.
I keep the thought to myself, letting a lazy smirk slide onto my face instead. I ignore the question entirely, reaching into my pocket to pay for our tickets.
I let her take the lead from there. She drags me from one food truck to the next, pointing excitedly at things I’d never normally touch. I quietly trail a step behind, content to just watch the way her face lights up under the flashing bulbs.
With every laugh that leaves her lips, something shifts permanently in my gut. I'm falling in love with her all over again, deeper than before.
When she steers us toward the game valley, I brace my arm, subtly guiding her in the opposite direction.
She gives me a confused look, but I keep moving.
She doesn't need to know that the last time I was in that section, I nearly took a man’s life because a carny tried to cheat Cassia out of a prize.
"Come on, then," she laughs, shifting her focus to the massive, rotating wheel at the center of the fairgrounds. "The dreadful wheel."
I look up at the towering metal structure, rubbing the back of my neck. I let out a low grunt, but nod. "Alright. Yeah, sure."
While we wait in line, she excitedly shares more stories from her past. I always love when she talks about the good memories. Every time I think she’s told me everything, a new one always pops up when nostalgia hits.
Finally, we climb into the small, swaying metal carriage. As the machinery groans and lifts us into the crisp night air, Margot’s attention is instantly snagged by the view. She leans forward, looking out over the tapestry of twinkling town lights and dark autumn woods below, across from me.
It takes every ounce of my strength not to tease her as the glass in front of her fogs.
While she's distracted, my hand slips into the heavy pocket of my cut. My fingers close around the small, velvet square box. I cradle it in my palm, my heart picking up in speed all too naturally.
I’m not going to have cold feet. No fucking way.
Sensing the silence, she turns away from the view, a beautiful smile on her face. "Are you actually scared of something so beautiful, Dante?"
My thumb squeezes the edge of the box inside my pocket. I lock my eyes onto hers. "I'm beyond terrified. Especially when that very thing makes me feel like I could have a heart attack every time I look."
Right then, the wheel grinds to a heavy, shuddering halt. We're suspended at the absolute peak, the carriage rocking gently in the autumn breeze.
Margot giggles at the movement, looking across the small gap at me. "We could rock the seat and—”
The rest of her words die on her tongue as I pull my hand from my pocket and pop the velvet box open. The diamond catches the golden glow of the fair lights below, stark and bright between us.
Her laugh fades entirely. Her eyes widen all big and round, gawking at the ring, then up at me. She looks completely breathless.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words catch right in my throat. Guess we’re both a little speechless right now.
I've commanded entire rooms with a single look, but right now, looking at the woman who holds my entire world in her hands, I can't even ask her properly. The vulnerability is staggering, humbling me where I sit.
Before I can even try to clear my throat, she's moving. She scrambles across the tiny, swaying metal container. The carriage rocks roughly under the sudden shift, and then she's practically throwing her entire weight onto the small gap next to me.
"Yes," she breathes, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck. "Yes."
A rough, hoarse laugh rips from my chest. My massive arms lock around her waist as I tug her onto my lap, crushing her flush against my chest to stabilize us. "You don't even know what I'm asking, gorgeous. You want to be my wife?"
"Yes," she cries out, peppering kisses all over my lips, my flushed cheeks, my jaw—everywhere she can reach. "Yes, Dante."
A deep, contented rumble vibrates in my chest. I take her hand, my fingers steadying just enough to slide the ring firmly onto her finger. It fits perfectly. I tuck her head into the notch of my shoulder, resting my chin against her hair as the Ferris wheel stays suspended under the autumn stars.
"This ride could stay stuck like this forever," I murmur, my voice thick with a fierce, protective devotion. "And I would never mind. All because I'm right here with you."
The laugh that leaves her is utter bliss. Kissing me long and hard, we barely register the ride resuming.
Below us, the gears groan, and the carnival lights begin to shift, but the movement no longer matters. The restlessness that’s driven me for years simply quietens, replaced by the steady, even warmth of her breath against my collarbone.
Without a doubt, I know I'm already exactly where I belong. With this woman, my soon-to-be wife, right by my side.