Page 76 of Break Me

The rings rest inside my jacket, over my heart.

In a few minutes, one of them will belong to her.

Her house is quiet when we pull in. There are no cars in the driveway. No lights on inside. I kill the engine and listen anyway. After last night, I don't trust silence anymore.

Nothing.

Raven slips off the bike first. I follow her inside, closing the door behind us, my eyes tracking corners out of habit.

“Looks like they’re out,” she says.

“Good,” I reply and mean it.

Once inside, Raven doesn't head upstairs. Instead, she walks into the kitchen, pulls a scrap of paper from the drawer, and sits at the table. She writes without hesitation, the pen gliding steadily across the page as though she's known exactly what she wanted to say all along. When she's finished, she folds the note in half and leaves it where no one could possibly miss it.

“It’s for my dad,” she says, answering the question I didn’t ask. “I’ll call him after.”

I give her a small smile. “I figured.”

She takes a breath that almost sounds like a laugh. "Don't go anywhere."

Then she heads upstairs.

I stay where I am, my hands braced on the back of a chair, listening as the house settles around me. A drawer opens. A closet door slides. Soft footsteps cross the floor, then stop.

The first glimpse of her steals my next breath. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

Raven's wearing a long white sundress, the fabric brushing softly against her legs as she walks toward me. It's simple enough that most people wouldn't call it a wedding dress.

They're wrong.

She's never looked more beautiful. All I can think is this woman is about to become my wife.

She pauses on the last step, searching my face like she's trying to read my reaction.

"Is this one okay?" she asks, suddenly sounding far less certain than she did a few minutes ago.

A laugh catches in my throat, equal parts disbelief and awe.

I cross the room before I even realize I'm moving. Taking her hands in mine, I shake my head.

"Raven..." My voice comes out rough. "You could've walked down those stairs wearing a paper bag, and I'd still think you were the most beautiful woman in the world."

Her eyes glisten.

I brush a strand of damp hair behind her ear.

"But this?" I smile. "You're perfect."

Her smile is small, almost shy, like the weight of the moment has finally caught up with her. She slips her shoes on, glances once at the note on the table, then returns her gaze to me.

“Ready?” I ask.

She looks at me like the answer should already be obvious. “I’ve been waiting for today for my entire life.”

I take her hand, grounding myself in the simple reality of her standing here, choosing this.

Outside, I swing onto the bike before offering her my hand, careful not to catch the hem of her dress as she climbs on behind me. She wraps her arms around me and rests her head on my back.