Epilogue
LUCKY BY JASON MRAZ AND COLBIE CAILLAT
Daisy
A year later
“Pass me the pasteles, mija,” Omar, Mateo’s dad, says.
His voice is warm, a little gravelly, the kind of voice that makes even a simple request sound like an invitation to belong.
I don’t remember exactly when he changed my nickname from sweetheart to mija, but I take it like a badge I’ve secretly longed for.
I do as he says and smile softly at him, because getting to know him better this past year has been unexpectedly healing for me and my daddy issues.
He’s an incredible dad—gentle but steady—and Mateo and Livie are lucky to have him.
He’s quiet most of the time, but he likes board games, and I do too.
It feels like our own private language when we play.
After the whole fake-to-actually-dating thing last Christmas, we’ve gotten closer, I guess now that he knows I’m not just the friend.
Still, I would love to know when I can actually wear the ‘mija’ tag proudly. I hope I will one day, right?
I mean, I’ve been dating Mateo for a year now.
We moved in together almost immediately after coming back from the Dominican.
My lease was up, and he couldn’t get me in his house fast enough.
Our house, as he would correct me, gently but firmly.
Did he let me put any money down? Nope. He still won’t let me pay for anything.
When I threw a fit about it, he asked for five dollars to pay the notary and added my name to the title.
“Just sign here,” he said, and it was all done.
Livie and I are closer than ever…but still, I’m just the girlfriend.
I don’t want to complain or sound ungrateful, because really, being his girlfriend is what I dreamed of for years.
Now, though, I’m getting impatient. I just want him to put a ring on it.
Call me superficial or cliché or whatever, but I want the ring.
I already have the house and the man and the family—since they took me in as one of their own—and now, I want the ring.
“Here.” I smile at Omar as I pass the plate, but his attention flickers toward Mateo, a crease of concern in his brow. I don’t blame him—Mateo looks pale, like he’s about to keel over.
“Hey, are you okay? Do you need water?” I ask, leaning in to touch Mateo’s forehead instinctively. He feels fine, but he doesn’t look it. He’s barely touched his food, which is practically a crime in this house.
“Maybe he needs to go for a walk. Why don’t you take him down to the river for some fresh air?” Ada, his mom, suggests gently.
Their house is a beautiful cottage-style home right in the heart of Magnolia Springs, with the spring-fed lake as their backyard.
It’s the kind of place pulled from the glossy page of a southern design magazine—cozy and a little magical.
We pass the enclosed patio, stepping into the open air, the grassy yard sprawling wide under majestic oak trees.
The branches stretch like arms above us, draped with white garden lights that sway softly in the breeze.
It’s straight out of a small-town-of-my-dreams movie.
Their backyard is goals, if I do say so myself.
When we were little, Livie, Bee, and I used to pretend we’d get married right here in this very yard.
We planned every detail—where we’d set up the decorations, the colors of the bridesmaids’ dresses, even the exact square of grass where the dance floor would go.
We believed it would be Livie’s wedding venue, but she ended up getting married in Atlanta, somewhere more practical, where both her family and Alex’s could get to easily.
It was beautiful, of course, but still—every time I walk under these lights, I think of our girlish dreams.
We follow the path—or really, Mateo leads, and I trail behind, trying to catch up with his strange silence.
He’s so oddly quiet, and I don’t understand what changed.
He was fine this morning, before dinner, laughing with me in the car.
Maybe it was the food? He did barely eat.
It can’t be work—he took time off again for the holidays.
“Teo, baby, wait!” I call out, my voice sharper than I intend. He’s all the way to the dock and stops the second he hears me.
He turns, and my breath catches. Holy shit.
He looks so devastatingly hot in the moonlight.
Filthy thoughts flash through my head: I could one hundred percent strip him and suck him off right here.
The image makes me flush, and I shake it off.
Obviously, his parents are twenty yards away inside.
Definitely not the vibe. I press out a shaky laugh and exhale.
The night is chilly, the kind of crisp that sneaks through clothes. Despite my long-sleeve shirt and leggings—I’m choosing comfort these days, because the food here is too good to waste energy worrying about how my jeans or dress fit—the cold breeze prickles at my unshaved legs.
If looks could warm me, though, this one would.
Mateo’s looking at me like I’m both a breath of fresh air and a hot summer night, like I’m the beginning and end of every season.
His eyes spark fire within me, burning away every trace of doubt.
How did we get from I might throw up at any moment to this?
He extends his hand, palm up, and I take it without thinking, stepping closer into his spicy, familiar-scented space. This scent right here is engrained in my being, especially now that I fall asleep on his chest every night.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Daisy girl.”
“Teo,” I breathe, my voice trembling. He smiles like he’s savoring the sound of me unraveling. “Are you feeling better?”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums.
“Fresh air was all you needed, huh?”
“You.”
“I—what?”
“You were all I needed.”
The dock seems to tilt beneath me, my heart pounding so loud, I can hear it in my ears. His words sink deep, and I’m beyond confused. I laugh nervously, the sound breaking the night’s stillness.
“That’s…okay? I—we’re together, you know?”
His smile widens, softer this time, almost boyish. “Yeah.” He doesn’t say anything else, almost like he’s waiting for answers. He didn’t ask a question, though, so I truly don’t know what he wants, and it’s dizzying.
“You asked me last year if Christmas was my favorite holiday, and I said no, remember?”
“Yeah, but you lied,” I reply, and he nods.
“Do you know why it’s my favorite holiday?” I shake my head and bite my lip. Where is this going?
“Because since I was seven years old, I got to spend them with you, every year. For over twenty years, I knew no matter what, it was Daisy Day.”
He takes a deep, shaky breath, like he’s been rehearsing this in his head all night and can’t hold it in any longer. His hand squeezes mine once, and then he lowers himself to one knee, right there on the dock.
My hands fly to my mouth. “Oh my God.”
The fairy lights above us glow brighter—or maybe it’s just my vision blurring with tears. Fucking finally! I can’t say that, can I? Nope, I should wait for him to speak, live in the moment. I should one hundred percent get out of my head.
Mateo’s voice wavers, but his eyes never leave mine. “I wrote this a million times over because I was lost about what to say. You’d think a man who has been practicing how to ask the girl of his dreams to marry him for decades would know what to say, but the words failed me.”
Well, shit. Now I’m crying.
“You already know I can’t live without you.
You’re not just my girlfriend, Daisy. You’re my family.
My home. My best friend. My confidant. My partner.
My brightest light on a dark day and the last person I want to see when I close my eyes.
You are my everything, and I don’t want to wait another day to make that official. ”
He pulls a small velvet box from his pocket, flipping it open with a hand that trembles only slightly. The ring catches the moonlight, glinting like every childhood wish I ever made under these very trees.
“Will you marry me?” he asks, and a sob breaks free from my lips. I don’t know what to say or do; all I can do is cry with my hands covering my mouth.
“Well, say something,” someone shouts from behind me, but I’m too afraid to turn around to see who it is. Then, it registers. Oh no, no, no. I didn’t say anything!
“Yes! Oh my God, yes! All I’ve ever wanted was to say yes, Mateo.”
He slides the prettiest gold ring on my finger, and I throw myself at him, tackling him to the damp grass. I kiss him gently at first and then ravenously, and I don’t stop until he whispers against my lips, “Everyone’s here.”
I look at him puzzled. “Who’s everyone?”
A mix of “Surprise!” and “Everyone!” shouts greet us, and I look around, the tears still flowing. All our friends, my sister, my mom, Mateo’s family, and Livie and Alex are here, smiling so big at us.
“Fucking finally,” Livie shouts, and we all laugh.
“Come on, lovebirds. Let’s take this party inside. I’m cold!” my little sister whispers, and we follow her directions.
We spend the rest of the night intertwined, surrounded by our friends and family, and I thank myself again for breaking all those rules a year ago.