Page 106 of Unlocking Melodies

"You know," I couldn't help grinning, "for a guy who runs a cat café, you've got an impressive flair for dramatic timing."

He just winked, that mysterious smile playing at his lips before he drifted away into the crowd. Something about the way he moved still made me wonder exactly what kind of supernatural being was serving our town lattés, but hey - after everything we'd been through, a maybe-superhero barista seemed pretty on brand.

Ethan tugged me to a stop under the canopy of lights, his expression doing something complicated that made my heart skip. I knew that look - it was his 'about to make a major business decision' face, but softer somehow. More vulnerable.

"Jimmy," he started, then paused. His hand trembled slightly as he reached into his pocket, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. Because that was definitely a ring box, and that was definitely Ethan Cole - corporate titan, nightmare of board rooms, and occasional victim of waterfowl attacks - dropping to one knee in the middle of our small-town festival.

"I had this whole speech prepared," he admitted, looking up at me with those impossible green eyes. "Very corporate, very polished. But that's not us, is it? We're midnight piano sessions and small-town adventures and finding each other even when memory fails. You make me better - not just as a CEO or a sonor any of the roles I'm supposed to play. You make me better as me."

I tried to form words, but everything got stuck somewhere between my heart and my throat.

"So here I am," he continued, opening the box to reveal a ring that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, "asking the guy who can't cook without setting off smoke alarms, who made me fall in love with him twice, who somehow got my mother addicted to small-town gossip... will you marry me?"

"You know Mrs. Henderson's probably live-streaming this," I managed through tears I couldn't quite control.

"Is that a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes, you ridiculous man." My laugh came out watery but real. "Like I'd trust anyone else to appreciate my culinary disasters."

His hands shook slightly as he slipped the ring onto my finger, then he was standing and I was in his arms and nothing else mattered. Not the festival chaos around us, not the definitely-not-subtle chorus of happy sobs from our various observers, not even Martha's victory crow from somewhere nearby.

Just us, finding our way back to each other under autumn stars and fairy lights, writing our own kind of happily ever after.

"I love you," I whispered against his neck, breathing in expensive cologne and pure joy.

"I love you too," he murmured back. "Memory loss, cooking disasters, overprotective towns and all."

From somewhere in the crowd, I distinctly heard Mrs. Henderson declare "Operation Engagement: Success!" followed by what sounded like high-fives and the shuffling of betting slips.

But with Ethan's arms around me and a future stretching out bright and beautiful ahead, I couldn't bring myself to care aboutanything except this moment. This love. This perfectly imperfect life we'd built together.