Chapter Twelve
The One Who Stayed
Six months later, Between the Lines celebrated its second anniversary and the grand opening of the Morrow Creative Suites.
The bookstore had fresh paint, expanded seating, and a courtyard filled with string lights, flowering plants, and a small stage.
Local writers rented the upstairs offices.
A neighborhood therapist occupied one suite.
Sabria moved her mobile bartending headquarters into another.
Norelle launched a monthly singles book club that attracted forty people who occasionally remembered to discuss the book.
The anniversary crowd filled the store with laughter and conversation.
Miss Clevonne held court beside the romance shelves.
Brinelle flirted with a silver-haired mystery author from Atlanta.
Eudora Vance sold raffle tickets even though nobody had asked her to take charge.
I stood behind the register watching customers carry books, coffee, and cupcakes through the space Mama and I once imagined together.
I wished she could see it.
Maybe she could.
LaKeith stepped beside me and kissed my temple.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m happy.”
“Good.”
He reached beneath the counter and handed me a wrapped package.
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
Inside was a hardcover notebook bound in dark green leather.
Gold letters decorated the cover.
A Novel Idea.
It matched the notebook I had carried in the promotional artwork for the store.
I opened it.
On the first page, LaKeith had written:
For Yandy,
Some love stories find you anyway.
Beneath the message sat a small velvet ring box.
My breath stopped.
“LaKeith.”
Around us, the room became suspiciously quiet.
I looked up.
LaKeith was already kneeling.
Norelle held her phone in the air, recording. Jakari stood beside her with a grin. Brinelle pressed both hands over her mouth.
Miss Clevonne had started crying before LaKeith spoke.
He took my hand.
“I spent months trying to get you to have dinner with me,” LaKeith began. “Then I spent the rest of the year learning that loving you requires patience, honesty, strong communication, and access to a licensed contractor.”
The room filled with laughter.
My eyes burned.
“You are bold, stubborn, generous, hilarious, and more tender than you allow most people to see,” he continued. “You created a place where everybody gets to believe in love.”
LaKeith opened the ring box.
An oval diamond sparkled beneath the bookstore lights.
“I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you believe in ours. Yandy Monroe, will you marry me?”
I stared at the man I had tried so hard to ignore.
The man who had seen my fear without confusing it for weakness.
The man who challenged me, cherished me, and gave me room to remain fully myself.
“Yes.”
The store erupted.
LaKeith slid the ring onto my finger, stood, and pulled me into his arms.
I kissed him while our friends and family cheered around us.
Norelle shouted, “Finally!”
Jakari looked down at her. “You next?”
Norelle lowered her phone. “Don’t make me ruin this beautiful moment.”
“You could say yes.”
“To what?”
“Dinner.”
Norelle blinked.
Jakari smiled. “Friday night. Seven.”
“I’m busy.”
“You didn’t check your schedule.”
Her eyes widened.
I laughed against LaKeith’s mouth.
Jakari had been paying attention.
LaKeith whispered against my lips, “You think she’ll go?”
“She will resist for at least three chapters.”
“You speaking from experience?”
“Obviously.”
LaKeith kissed me again.
Our love story had found its ending.
Judging by the way Norelle was staring at Jakari, another one was already beginning.
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