34. Eve #3
"You were such an ass," I tell him fondly.
"The worst," he agrees. "But you were so pretty, even at seven. All that curly hair and those big brown eyes. I didn't know what to do with how you made me feel."
"So you decided to make me miserable instead."
"Seemed like the logical choice at the time."
We're standing close together now, our shoulders touching as we look out over the frozen lake. The morning sun has climbed higher, turning the snow-covered surface into a field of diamonds.
"I used to dream about this place," Nash admits quietly. "When I was in New York, trying to convince myself I was better off without you. I'd dream about skating on this lake with you, about holding your hand while we glided across the ice like we were in some cheesy Christmas movie."
The confession makes my heart squeeze with emotion. "We could still do that. The ice looks solid enough."
"We could," Nash agrees, but he doesn't move toward the lake. Instead, he turns to face me fully, his blue eyes intense with an emotion I can't quite identify. "Eve..."
Something in his tone makes my pulse quicken. There's a gravity to the way he's looking at me, a significance that makes the morning air feel charged with possibility.
"What?" I ask, though part of me already knows, already feels the shift in the atmosphere between us.
Nash reaches into his coat pocket, his movements careful and deliberate. When his hand emerges, it's holding a small velvet box that makes my breath catch in my throat.
"I've been carrying this around for three days," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "Trying to figure out the right moment, the right words. But standing here where we met, where all of this started... it feels right."
My hands fly to my mouth as he drops to one knee in the snow, the velvet box open to reveal a ring that takes my breath away.
It's not the massive solitaire Ethan chose to showcase his success.
Instead, it's a vintage-style setting with a center diamond surrounded by smaller stones, delicate and elegant and absolutely perfect.
"Eve Turner," Nash says, his voice steady despite the emotion shining in his eyes, "I've loved you since we were kids, through all the years when I was too stupid and scared to tell you.
I've wasted so much time pushing you away when all I wanted was to pull you closer.
I don't want to waste another day, another hour, without you knowing exactly how much you mean to me. "
Tears are streaming down my cheeks now, freezing almost instantly in the cold air, but I don't care. All I can focus on is Nash, kneeling in the snow with his heart in his hands.
"You make me want to be better than I am," he continues. "You make me believe in possibilities I never thought I deserved. You're my home, Eve, and my future, and if you'll have me, I promise to spend the rest of my life proving that I'm worthy of your love."
He pauses, taking a shaky breath before asking the question that will change everything.
"Will you marry me?"
The word "yes" is out of my mouth before he's even finished asking, my voice breaking with the force of my emotion. "Yes, of course yes, you beautiful, stubborn, impossible man. Yes."
Nash's face transforms with relief and joy as he slides the ring onto my finger with hands that shake slightly. The fit is perfect, like everything else about this moment, and when he stands to kiss me, I taste salt from my own tears mixed with the promise of forever.
"I can't believe it took you this long to ask," I whisper against his lips.
"I can't believe it took me this long to stop fighting what I wanted," he replies, his arms tightening around me like he's afraid I might disappear.
When we finally break apart, Nash's expression shifts into something almost shy. "I have a confession to make."
"Another one?"
"I may have already booked us a weekend at Cascade Lodge. For this weekend, before we head back to New York."
The presumption should probably annoy me, but instead it makes me laugh with pure delight. "You were that confident I'd say yes?"
"I was that hopeful," Nash corrects. "And that determined to give you the kind of proposal you deserve, followed by the kind of celebration we both deserve."
I kiss him again, hard and desperate and full of all the love I've kept buried for so many years. "I love you," I tell him when we finally come up for air. "I love your confidence and your planning and the way you make me feel like the most precious thing in the world."
"You are the most precious thing in my world," Nash replies solemnly. "The most precious thing in any world."
Standing there in the snow where our story began, with his ring on my finger and his arms around me, I finally understand what it means to be completely, utterly home.
Not because of a place or a town or a house, but because of a person.
Because of love that's strong enough to survive years of separation and misunderstanding and fear.
Because of Nash, and the way he looks at me like I'm worth everything he's ever wanted.