33. Gage
Gage
C hristmas morning arrived with the kind of hushed, magical stillness that only came once a year.
I'd been awake since three-thirty, too nervous to sleep and going over the list in my head of what I needed to get done.
Now I was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the snow fall softly against our bedroom window and feeling the small velvet box burning a hole in my nightstand drawer.
Today was the day. I was going to ask Billie to marry me.
The thought made my hands shake as I slipped quietly out of bed, careful not to wake her.
She looked so peaceful lying there, her dark hair spread across the pillow, one hand tucked under her cheek.
Beautiful. Mine. At least, I hoped she'd still be mine after I took the biggest leap of faith in my life.
I left a note on my pillow in case she woke up before I got back, not wanting her to worry that I'd slipped away in the night.
I dressed quickly and grabbed the ring box, checking for the hundredth time that my grandmother's emerald was still there, still perfect, still waiting to find its home on Billie's finger.
Then I loaded the truck with everything I'd prepared—candles, a breakfast picnic, blankets, and all the hope my heart could hold.
The renovated house looked perfect in the predawn darkness.
We'd finished it just two weeks ago, and it still took my breath away.
Our house, the life we'd built together with our own hands.
Every room held memories of late nights with my brothers, of pushing to get it finished ahead of schedule, of imagining the life Billie and I would build here together.
I spent an hour arranging candles throughout the living room and kitchen, creating the kind of romantic atmosphere that would make this moment as perfect as Billie deserved.
The empty rooms echoed with my footsteps and the rapid beating of my heart.
By the time I was finished, the house glowed with warm candlelight, and I couldn't stop pacing.
What if she said no? What if it was too soon? What if I wasn't worth the risk?
My phone buzzed: Merry Christmas, love. Where did you sneak off to?
Good morning, beautiful, I typed back, my fingers trembling. I have a surprise for you. Can you meet me outside in ten minutes?
A surprise? On Christmas morning? Should I be worried?
Only if you don't trust me.
I trust you completely. That's what has me worried. ??
Ten minutes later, she appeared on the front porch wearing the red sweater I'd bought her last week and jeans that made her legs look endless. But it was her face that stopped my breath—sleepy and curious and lit with the kind of trust that still amazed me after all these months.
"Gage Farrington," she said, climbing into the truck and stealing a quick kiss. "What are you up to?"
"You'll see," I said, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt.
The drive to the house took five minutes that felt like five hours. Billie kept glancing at me with growing curiosity, and I kept checking my pocket to make sure the ring was still there.
"Are we going to the house?" she asked as I pulled into the driveway. "Did something go wrong? Did a pipe burst or..."
"Nothing's wrong," I said, coming around to help her out of the truck. "You have to wait and see."
"You're being very mysterious."
"It's Christmas morning. I'm allowed to be mysterious."
I led her up the front steps, my heart hammering so hard I was sure she could hear it. The key turned in the lock with a soft click, and I pushed open the door to reveal our empty, beautiful house glowing with dozens of candles.
"Gage," she breathed, stepping inside and looking around in wonder. "It's gorgeous. The candles... it looks like something out of a fairy tale."
"That's what I was hoping for," I said, dropping down to one knee behind her.
When she turned to face me, I saw the exact moment understanding began to dawn in her eyes. Her breath caught, and her hands flew to her mouth.
"Is this...?" she whispered.
"Billie," I said, and my voice cracked on her name. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I know this might seem quick, but the truth is, it's not quick at all. It's eleven years later than it should have been."
Her eyes filled with tears, and I felt my own beginning to gather.
"You were the first girl who ever meant anything to me," I continued, my voice thick with emotion.
"The only girl who ever meant anything to me.
You were the one who taught me how to love, and you've been the one holding my heart all this time, even when I was too scared and too stupid to deserve it. "
I knelt before her right there in our empty living room, surrounded by candlelight and the future we'd hopefully build together. The ring box felt warm in my trembling hands.
"I'm just one flawed man, Billie, and you could do so much better than me.
God knows you deserve so much better." A tear slipped down my cheek, and I didn't bother to wipe it away.
"But this chance you've given me—to love you, to build a life with you, to be the man you believed I could be—it's more than anyone could ever deserve. "
I opened the ring box with shaking fingers, revealing the vintage emerald that had been waiting for this moment. For her. Decades nestled inside a velvet box, waiting to grace her beautiful finger.
"If you'll say yes," I said, my voice breaking with the weight of everything I felt for her, "I'm going to spend every day for the rest of my life proving to you that I deserve it. That I deserve you."
The tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now, but she was smiling through them, nodding before I'd even finished asking.
"Will you marry me, Billie? Will you be my wife and build our forever with me?"
"Yes," she said, laughing and crying at the same time as she dropped to her knees in front of me. "Yes, of course, yes. It's always been yes with you, Gage. Always."
I slipped the ring onto her finger with hands that wouldn't stop shaking, and it fit like it had been made for her. Like my grandmother had somehow known, all those years ago, that someday this ring would find its way to the next woman who was meant to wear it.
When I kissed her, it was with all the love and hope that had carried us through the darkest times to this moment of pure, perfect joy.
"I love you," she whispered against my lips.
"I love you too. Forever and always."
She pulled back to look at the ring, and her eyes went wide. "Gage, it's beautiful."
"It was my grandmother's. My grandfather saved it for you," I said, wiping tears from her cheeks with my thumbs.
"Dad told me Grandfather knew, somehow he knew, that you would be the one to wear it.
He said it was written all over my face every time someone mentioned your name, even when we were teenagers. "
"He really knew? About us? All that time ago?"
"He knew we belonged together before we did." I kissed her softly. "He'd be so proud of you, of us, of the man you helped me become."
"I can't believe you did all this," she said, looking around at the candles and then back at me with wonder. "On Christmas morning, in our house..."
"Our house," I repeated, loving the sound of it. "Our life. Our forever."
I pulled her to her feet and kissed her again, deeper this time, pouring all my gratitude and love and promise into the connection between us.
"I brought breakfast," I said when we finally broke apart, gesturing to the picnic basket I'd left by the door. "Thought we could celebrate properly."
"You thought of everything," she said, but she was looking at me like I was the only thing she wanted to think about.
I spread the blanket on the living room floor and unpacked the breakfast I'd carefully prepared.
Fresh fruit, pastries from the bakery in town that I'd made Marie open early exactly for this purpose, and coffee in a thermos.
But the moment I set everything out, Billie was in my arms again, kissing me with a passion that made my head spin.
"Your breakfast," I murmured against her lips.
"I don't care," she whispered back. "I just want you."
And as we sank onto the blanket together, surrounded by candlelight in the house we'd built with our own hands, the house where we'd spend our married life, I knew that this was what home felt like.
Not just a place, but the woman in my arms, the ring on her finger, the love that had survived everything and emerged stronger than ever.
The breakfast could wait. Everything else could wait. Right now, there was only us, only this moment, only the promise of forever stretching out ahead of us like the most beautiful gift I'd ever received.