“Kane Haverhill.”
“Keep watching.”
The letters move.
Reform.
BE MY ENDNOTE FOREVER?
I laugh through a sob.
“That is so corny.”
“I had two years to commit.”
“You put it in the sky.”
“Harder to say no.”
“You are terrible.”
“Is that a yes?”
I look at him.
The boy from the street court.
The athlete I swore I'd never date.
The man who flew to Chicago because he refused to let basketball stand between me and my father.
The person who waited when I needed time.
Who stayed when he could have gone.
Who never asked me to shrink so he could take up more space.
My future.
I slide out of the truck bed and drop into the sand in front of him.
His eyebrows shoot up.
“Hannah?”
I catch his face between both hands.
“Yes.”
His whole body stills.
“Yes?”
“Yes, Haverhill.”
His smile breaks.
Huge.