Page 384 of End Game
My lungs forget how to work.
Logan lets out a breath, almost a laugh, like he can’t believe he’s doing this in our bathroom, with a pregnancy test on the counter and a city outside the window.
“Sloane Rhodes,” he says, voice low and shaking, “I’ve been carrying this around waiting for the perfect moment.”
He glances at the counter and huffs softly. “Clearly, I’m bad at timing.”
I let out a choked laugh. “That’s one way to say it.”
His mouth twitches, relief flickering.
Then he opens the box.
The ring catches the light like a small, steady promise.
Logan’s eyes are glassy. “I love you,” he says simply. “I’ve loved you in every way I knew how for a long time. And the only life I want, whatever it looks like, has you in it.”
My throat burns.
“I don’t have a speech,” he adds, and his voice cracks on the words. “I have a lot of feelings and very little composure.”
My hands fly to my mouth.
He exhales, steadying himself. “So…will you marry me?”
I’m crying. I’m laughing. I’m shaking.
And somehow the first thing that comes out of my mouth is, “This is so cheesy.”
His eyes flicker with a grin. “That’s not a no.”
“It’s not a no,” I choke out.
He steps closer, and I’m nodding, already reaching for him like my body knows the answer before my brain catches up.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, you idiot.”
Logan’s face crumples with something so raw I feel it in my bones.
He slides the ring onto my finger with hands that shake.
Then he kisses me—soft at first, like he’s trying not to overwhelm me.
But I grab his hoodie and pull him closer anyway, because I need him like I need air.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
Logan presses his forehead to mine. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay. Now we look again because my brain thinks it hallucinated that second line.”
I laugh through the tears. He turns us toward the counter, arm around my waist like he’s shielding me from the universe.
We stare at the test.
Positive.
Logan lets out a broken sound, half laugh, half inhale, like his chest can’t hold all of it, and then he kisses my temple.
“We’re gonna have a baby,” he whispers.
I rest my hand over my stomach without thinking, like I can hold the future in place.
And for the first time in a long time, I believe it.
Not quite ready to say goodbye to these two?
