Page 40 of Rescue

A slow, tender smile spreads across her face, and she steps closer, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. “I love you too, Will,” she says softly, her voice trembling slightly. “I never stopped either.”

The weight I’ve been carrying for so long eases, and I reach for her, pulling her into my arms. We hold each other tightly, the silence between us filled with everything we don’t need to say out loud. When I finally pull back, I rest my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling.

“Katie,” I say, a playful grin tugging at my lips. “Marry me. Again.”

Her laugh bubbles up, light and incredulous, and she pulls back to look me in the eye. “Seriously? Right now?”

I shrug, my grin widening. “Why not? It’s not like we just met. We know each other in and out. And I’m here to stay.”

She shakes her head, laughing even as her eyes shimmer with emotion. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“And you love me anyway,” I counter, smirking.

She leans in and kisses me, slow and certain, before pulling back just enough to whisper, “Yes, Will. I’ll marry you again.”

It’s crazy, but hearing her say yes now feels a thousand times better than when she said yes the first time. Maybe it’s because we had to fight for this one, or maybe it’s because I didn’t think I could have this happiness again. Whatever it is, I will remember this feeling for the rest of my life, and this time, I will make sure it lasts forever.

“Good. Now let’s eat before the chicken gets cold,” I say, like she didn’t just make me the happiest person in the world.

Her laugh fills the room as she grabs my hand, guiding me toward the kitchen. For the first time in years, everything feels exactly as it should—Katie, Phoebe, me, and a future I can't wait to share with them again.

Mel

Four weeks have passed since the meeting, and though my days are filled with emails, spreadsheets, and quiet routines, I’ve started to find comfort in the steadiness of it all. My new role keeps me grounded, but it’s the evenings I look forward to the most—when Owen and I can shut out the world and just be.

As I step into the flat, the familiar scent of melted butter and caramel wafts through the air. I kick off my shoes, my lips curling into a smile as I spot Owen in the living room. He’s spread out a mattress on the floor, the coffee table pushed aside to make room. Blankets are piled high, fairy lights twinkle along the walls, and a bowl of popcorn sits in his lap.

“Welcome home,” he says, giving me a grin that makes my heart flip.

“You really committed to the movie night setup, huh?” I tease, shrugging off my jacket and tossing it onto the armchair.

“Go big or go home,” he replies, patting the spot beside him. “You, my dear, look like someone who needs to be horizontal immediately.”

I laugh, dropping my bag by the door and walking over to collapse dramatically onto the mattress. “You’re not wrong. Today was a stationery-order nightmare.”

“Oh no, not the dreaded stationery debacle,” he says with mock horror, pulling me into his side.

“What’s on tonight?” I ask, nodding at the TV.

“Something uplifting.Galaxy Quest.You’re welcome.”

I laugh again, shaking my head. “You know me too well.”

We settle into the blankets, the film starting in the background as I let myself sink into the warmth of him. Owen leans down to kiss me, and this time, there’s nothing quick or casual about it. His lips move against mine, slow and deliberate, and when his hand cups the side of my face, my breath catches. For a moment, I forget the day, work, everything except him.

“You taste like caramel,” I murmur when we finally break apart.

“Popcorn magic,” he replies with a smirk, pressing another kiss to the corner of my mouth. “You should try it.”

I giggle, swatting at his arm, and just like that, the tension of the day melts away.

Halfway through the movie, Owen sits up suddenly. “Oh! I almost forgot. Some official-looking letter came for you earlier.”

He reaches over to the coffee table and grabs an envelope, handing it to me. I frown, taking it from him. It doesn’t look like the usual invoices or dull paperwork, just a neatly handwritten address and my name.

“I’m hoping this isn’t bad news,” Owen jokes as I carefully tear it open.

“Me too,” I mutter, pulling out the card. My eyes widen as I take in the elegant script.Will and Katie invite you to celebrate their wedding.

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