“Brandon,” she breathes.
“Before you panic, I know I only asked you to move in with me like a week ago. And this isn't me asking you to be my wife so I can take care of you. This is me asking you to be my partner so we can take care of each other.”
Tears are already streaming down her face, but she's smiling.
“I want to spend my life with someone who challenges me and builds empires and never, ever makes herself smaller for anyone.” My voice grows softer as another firework lights up her face. “I want to marry you, Stella. Not because you need me, but because I can't imagine my life without you in it.”
“Me either,” she whispers, then louder, “I’m getting married!”
I slip the ring onto her finger with shaking hands, then stand to pull her into a kiss. Around us, fireworks continue to explode in brilliant colors, but all I can see is her.
“I love you,” she says against my lips.
“I love you, too. More than I ever thought possible.”
“My mother's going to kill you, you know.”
“Why?”
“You couldn't do this last week when we were in Atlanta?”
“I think she'll appreciate the setting of this proposal better. The beach, fireworks. It's pretty awesome.”
“Be sure to let her know that when you tell her,” she teases as she leans in for another kiss.
We stand there, holding each other on the beach, as the sky lights up above us, and I realize this is what happiness looks like.
Not the performance of it, not the careful construction of it, but the real thing that happens when you find the person who sees exactly who you are and chooses you anyway.
“So,” I say, grinning down at her, “ready to be a Grimaldi?”
“I've been ready since the day you helped me lie to my mother,” she says, laughing through her tears.
“Best lie I ever told.”
“Best truth I ever lived.”
And as we head back up the beach toward my family, her hand secure in mine and her ring catching the last light of the fireworks, I know that every moment of pretending led me exactly where I was meant to be. Right here, with her, for real.
She's the only truth I'll ever need.