21. Chapter 21
Cate
My eyes refused to stay shut.
I’d fallen asleep wrapped in John’s arms, warm and sated and dizzy with everything the night had been, but sometime before dawn, my body had betrayed me. I lay awake now, staring at the ceiling, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing beside me.
Engaged.
The word felt too big for the quiet room.
Getting married wasn’t something you casually agreed to. It wasn’t a dress you could return or a job you could quit if it didn’t fit. It was permanent in a way nothing else in my life had ever been.
I shifted carefully, easing the covers back inch by inch so I wouldn’t wake him. He didn’t stir. I slipped out of bed and padded down the stairs barefoot, the house still wrapped in that pre-dawn hush that made everything feel suspended.
In the kitchen, I grabbed the jar of peanut butter, a spoon, and my phone.
Some instincts you don’t question.
The phone rang four times before Amy answered, her voice thick with sleep. “Hello?”
“I’m engaged.”
The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
There was a long pause. Then, “Cate?” A yawn. “Is that you?”
“John asked me to marry him last night. And I said yes.”
There. The facts were out in the open. Now came the part where we figured out whether I’d just made the bravest decision of my life - or the worst one.
I twisted the lid off the peanut butter and dipped the spoon in, grounding myself in the familiar comfort of it. On the other end of the line, someone groaned.
“Amy?” I asked. “You there?”
“Yeah. Hold on.”
I glanced at the clock on the stove. It was just after five. Somewhere in the background, Jim muttered something unintelligible.
“Oh God,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that early.”
“It’s okay,” she said, voice already more awake. “Get dressed and meet me at Moe’s in thirty minutes.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I hung up, took one last spoonful of peanut butter, and headed back upstairs. I brushed my teeth, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and slipped into an old pair of jeans and one of John’s sweaters. It smelled like him, cedar and clean cotton, and my chest tightened unexpectedly.
In the bedroom, he shifted as I leaned down to kiss him.
“I’m going to meet Amy,” I whispered.
His eyes cracked open. “What time is it?”
“Too early,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. I brushed my fingers along his jaw, over the faint scratch of stubble. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back soon.”
He tugged the covers up and smiled, already halfway gone again. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The words came easily.
As I walked out the door, I waited for something to feel different. For the world to tilt. For some internal switch to flip.
Nothing did.
Moe’s café was already humming when I pulled in. Amy arrived seconds later, and I barely had time to shut my car door before she wrapped me in a hug.
Inside, we slid into our usual booth. “Tell me everything,” she said.
The waitress hadn’t even finished setting down the coffees before I launched in, telling her everything from the blindfold to the haunted house, the ring, him kneeling, me saying yes. All of it. Every last detail.
I talked until my throat hurt.
When I finally stopped, Amy stirred her coffee slowly, watching the cream spiral into the dark.
“So,” she said. “What now?”
I shrugged. “We didn’t really get that far.”
She laughed softly. “Wow. I wish Jim would propose already.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. We’ve been dating forever.”
“But why?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.
She stared at me. “Geez, Cate.”
“I’m serious,” I said. “You know I never planned for this.” I leaned back, closing my eyes. “Look at my mom. She married my dad, and he still left. What happens when someone changes their mind?”
“Not all men do.”
“How do you know?”
“You don’t,” she said gently. “You just have to have faith. Trust your gut.”
I nodded slowly. Trusting my gut had never been my strong suit.
“Looks like I’m getting married,” I said.
Amy smiled, though there was something thoughtful behind it.
I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Maybe this will push Jim to finally ask you.”
She laughed. “Maybe.”
We sat quietly for a moment, sipping coffee. The space between us felt unfamiliar. Not bad, just different.
Then she smiled again. “Cate Rosewood,” she said. “It has a nice ring to it.”
I half-smiled. “I know, right?”
“Let me see the ring again.”
She took my hand, turning it slowly, admiring the way the pink diamond caught the light.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
I nodded, staring at it too.