We stood on her porch, and she looked up at me with those brown eyes. “You want to marry me now? Today?”

The tower was gone. The drawbridge, the piranhas, the machine guns— gone. She was happy and open wide and her love was in everything. It poured out of her. It was in the way she looked at me. The tone of her voice. It was in her hand on my chest and her kiss, the smile that reached her eyes and the set of her mouth.

All these weeks I’d planned and prayed for this outcome. I didn’t even know what I’d do if I failed. It was something I’d refused to let myself think about.

But I hadn’t failed.

And now, seeing her love me like this was a relief for my soul. I had all of her for the first time. She was mine. She was finally mine.

But it wasn’t time to celebrate yet.

I’d thought long and hard about this over the last few weeks. We still didn’t know if she had some underlying health issues, and I’d bet my life that if she did, she’d leave me again to spare me having to take care of her.

Kristen believed in marriage. She believed in better and worse and sickness and health, and if she made that commitment to me, I knew she’d honor it. Even if she was the one who was sick.

I needed to seal this deal before she changed her mind. I’d seen time and time again how quickly I could lose her, and I had no intention of letting

that happen by putting more time between us while we planned a wedding. Not while she was one bad doctor’s visit from bailing on me.

“Hear me out,” I said. “The fact that I’m crazy in love with you doesn’t play into this. I promise. I know how much you’d hate it if I wanted to marry you in any sort of romantic sense, right?”

She laughed. God, I missed her.

“You’re about to have a major surgery, and your insurance isn’t as good as mine. You could see any doctor you want. You’d have access to any specialist you want to see, without a referral. I don’t want to end up like Sloan and Brandon. I don’t want to die not being married to the woman I love. And I want us to be able to make medical decisions for each other in the event that something happens to us.”

She bit her lip. “The thought of my mom having total say does scare me a little bit, actually.”

I grinned. I knew it would. “Also, the tax benefits for married couples are pretty generous.”

“That is true.” She smiled at me, her beautiful face light and open. “I have to say you make a pretty good argument. Do you need citizenship? Or maybe you need me to help you move a body and you don’t want me to be able to testify? Because if you did, I think that would clinch the deal.”

I pulled her closer. “Marry me. Now. Today. Let’s go down to city hall and just do it.”

Say yes. Please, say yes.

She shrugged. “Okay.”

My heart exploded in my chest. “Yes?”

She bit her lip and smiled. “Yeah, I can’t really argue with the pros list.” Her brow wrinkled. “But what about your family? They won’t be mad you’ve run off and married some random woman?”

Fuck my family—and I meant that in the most loving possible way—but my family was the last thing I was thinking about at the moment. I wouldn’t be able to relax until Kristen was my wife. None of this was real or certain until we were married.

This first, family and taking deep breaths later.

I shook my head. “My parents already married off six daughters. They’re relieved they don’t have to do another wedding. I already told them what I planned to do. We can go home for a party whenever we’re ready.”

“Oh!” She bounced up and down. “Can we get our wedding rings at the

Pulp Fiction pawnshop?”

I smiled, a cautious excitement seeping in. “Anything you want.” I checked my watch. “If we want to do this today, we have to get going. You can probably take a few minutes to change.”

“Okay, and I’ll call Sloan,” she said, reaching for her phone.

My stomach dropped. I knew this was coming, and my heart ached preemptively with what I had to tell her. I put a hand to her wrist. “Kristen,” I said gently. “Sloan knows that I was going to propose to you. She doesn’t want to be there.”

Her happiness bled out in front of me, and my own joy at the situation sank. I hated to see her hurting. I wished I could give her all the things she wanted today. But Sloan wasn’t for sale.

I looked at her softly. “She’s supportive. She was rooting for me. She asked me to text her with your answer. But she can’t go to a wedding.”

She swallowed hard and nodded, her brown eyes glossing just enough to make my heart break. “No. She wouldn’t be able to handle it. Of course.” She smiled up at me, weakly this time, trying to put on a good face. I loved her for it. But I knew how deeply this hurt her. It hurt me too.

We finally had each other, but both of us had lost our best friends.