Page 213 of The Exit Strategy

I chuckle, and so does everyone else.

“Probability that I will love you, exactly as you are,grump and vellum and all, until I’m dust: Certain.” Her voice cracks on the landing. “Cole Whittaker, you’re the only risk I never needed to assess. I just needed to be brave enough to take it. I vow to stay. I vow to try. I vow to love you openly, honestly, and with my whole wobbly heart until my very last breath because I’ve loved you for so long it’s become a part of my fabric. You’re in my DNA, my heart, my forever.”

Hudson hands me new tissues. It’s not worth telling him that the marsh is just aggressive in its allergens because there isn’t a dry eye in all of The Haven right now.

Junie just put her heart on blast and did so with zero walls or hesitation.

God, I love this woman.

“Cole,” Bea prompts.

“I had a speech,” I say as Hudson tries to hand it to me, but I wave him off. I’m not even shocked that he managed to find a copy of my words. “But I’ve learned something about my speeches and you, so here’s the structural composition of you and me—you’re it, Junie. You’ve been it for me since before I had the words and after I lost them. I vow to hand you the heavy things. I vow to tell you the truth even when I want to build something to hide it behind. I vow to always leave the light on so while you learn who you are at every stage of life, you’ll always know where home is. I vow to love you and be your partner, from spite to love and everything in between for the rest of my life.”

Junie makes a sound that’s half sob, half victory.

Hudson hands me the rings, and as Bea says words I don’t hear, I slip the final band around Junie’s ring finger like it was always meant to be there—and we both know that it was.

Junie takes my hand, and before she puts my ring on, she tilts it toward the light. I lean in to read the engraving.

Love is load-bearing.

I swallow thickly as she slides it past my knuckle.

Love is load-bearing. It wraps around my finger, then around my heart in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

Those four little words mean more than I can say, and she knows it.

Love is the structure of us—it always has been.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Bea says, and loving chaos erupts around us.

“They did it,” Stanley shouts into his megaphone just as I lean in to kiss Junie.

It’s not a sweet kiss. It’s a forever kiss—it’s a lifetime of hopes and dreams and a promise of the future. It’s love between lips and hearts and us.

We have our first dance right where I asked her to try, and the night glows golden all around us.

“Mrs. Whittaker,” I say, just to hear it.

“Mr. Whittaker.” She grins like she’s gotten away with something.

“The first time I danced with you, I knew you’d either be my salvation or my ruin.”

“Yeah?” She rests her head against my chest. “And which did I end up being?”

“Both, sweetheart. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“My teenage self is pinching my arm right now,” she says. “When I think about every dream I ever had for myself, they always ended here, with you. Thank you for being my dream maker, Cole.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You have that all backward. You’re the only dream worth having. Thank you for trying.” I tilt her head up and press my lips to hers. “Now.” I kiss the corner of her lips. “About tonight.” I kiss the other corner of her mouth. “How…slow should we go?”

Her gaze darkens with desire.

The Haven residents and our family are scattered around the property, but Hudson will shut this place down the second we head inside.

“Carry me over the threshold, Mr. Whittaker, and don’t you dare even think about…slow tonight.”

Game. Set. Match.