Page 83 of By the Book

“There’s something else. I reached out to an acquaintance at my old publishing house in New York. I know I wasn’t there long, but I figured it was worth a shot since she had been so kind in that brief time, and kept in touch after. I was just asking for any recommendations she had for a hopeful debut author, not expecting anything. But… she wants me to send her my story.”

Even as the words leave my mouth, they still don’t seem real. Not to me at least. He picks me up from my seat and spins me in the air. There’s such hope in his eyes, like he has no problem believing this.

“That’s great! They are going to love it,” he says, and a giggle escapes me as he leans in with a kiss.

“How was it with Chuck?” I ask cautiously. As unbothered as Tripp appears around others, he’s spent the last few monthsworking through an array of hurt, disappointment, and loss from his mentor’s betrayal. There have been many nights we’ve spent curled up together while he tried to process it all. It will never make sense, not with the way we all trusted Chuck.

“They threw the book at him, luckily. And I got him settled upstate, nice and far away.”

I place a hand on his cheek, frowning at the way his jaw has tightened with the subject change. “Was the transport okay? It’s not like he could talk to you, right?”

“He tried. He said to apologize to you.” The words sound as if they are being ground out, and I rub my hand along his jaw to soothe him. “I couldn’t stand hearing your name on his lips.”

“You’ll never have to again, it’s over. He’s received his verdict, no one would entertain his appeal, he’s gone for good.”

Tripp relaxes beneath my palm. “We’ve got everything to look forward to now,” he agrees. “This was the end of it.”

“And it’s just our beginning,” I promise. “Speaking of, what are these mysterious plans we have after work tonight?”

“Come on, Sherlock. Are you trying to tell me that you haven’t figured that out?” A teasing smirk catches the corner of his lips.

“What could I do to get a little hint out of you?”

“Probably a lot of things, honey. But I have to get back to work. I just wanted to come say good morning to you.” With a kiss, I’m left to speculate about what he has up his sleeve.

The brewery disappears behind us, and I twist in my seat to watch it shrink away. I can’t imagine where we are going, that was the last place to eat before we are out of town. Fenbury, then?

Tripp watches me, a twinkle shining in his eyes since we left home. “Any guesses?”

“No! Please give me a hint. We have to be leaving town at this point, I know that.”

“Not quite, we’re here.”

“The lighthouse?” I ask, taking in the sight of our destination. He only smiles in response, jumping out of the driver’s seat and coming around to open my door.

The evening sun glows in warm hues, painting the white of the lighthouse a pale pink. I look up at the structure as we approach, my curiosity overflowing. When he unlocks the door, revealing the winding staircase, I suck in a sharp breath. The steps are lined with lush roses, continuing as we climb.

“Tripp,” I whisper, looking at him with wide eyes. “What is this?”

“Keep going,” he nudges, his hand on the small of my back. I desperately try to contain my sense of hope for what this might mean. It would be too good to be true. But when we reach the glass room that we first shared a moment in, that hope explodes in my chest.

Roses circle around us, lining the glass windows. All around the bench in front of them, candles are scattered about, creating a soft light that mingles with the sunset. I take a step further in the room, admiring the rose petals beneath my feet, and take in all the breathtaking details once more. When I turn back to Tripp, he’s down on one knee, a delicate velvet box in his hand.

“Ivy, my love,” he starts, voice thick. “I’ve been yours for thirteen years. But I never dreamed I’d be so lucky as to call you mine.”

Tears blur my vision, the candlelight becoming streaks in the haze. I wipe furiously, not wanting to miss a single detail in this moment. Tripp’s eyes shine as well as he smiles up at me andcontinues. “You bring meaning to my life, and I don’t want to waste another minute.”

He cracks open the box, revealing a sparkling diamond ring. “Like you said this morning, this is just our beginning. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” I cry, throwing my arms around his neck and sinking into a knee weakening kiss. I let myself be consumed by the joy in the moment and the feel of his lips. His mouth captures mine in a deep, unhurried hold. As if absorbing every ounce of love that passes between us.

And there is an abundance of it. Because falling in love with him was never a choice. Like your favorite book that makes you feel the way no other story can. The book with the worn pages and fragile spine from reading and re-reading religiously. The one you connect with so inherently; you don’t even have a reason for loving it other than the fact that it is made up of the same bits as your soul itself.

No, falling in love with Tripp was never a choice. But deciding to be brave enough to build a life with him, that was the best choice I could ever make.

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