Page 20 of Let it Burn
The room is stone-silent. Every head is tilted forward. Every heart, braced.
"But it didn’t end. Because someone came for me. Someone who didn’t ask questions. Who didn’t make me explain myself. He just came. And he fought like hell to keep me safe. And taught me I mattered. That this stalker didn’t define who I was."
Her eyes are on me again. And I’m damn near wrecked.
"He made me feel safe in my own skin again. He reminded me that I wasn’t broken. That I wasn’t weak. That I was allowed to feel joy and love and peace. He helped me rebuild my life—one late-night talk, one safe morning, one hand on my shoulder at a time."
I stand. I can’t sit here anymore.
She laughs softly into the mic. "And now he’s probably pacing back there because I didn’t stick to the speech we wrote together."
That breaks the tension. The room chuckles gently.
"But I needed to say it like this. Because this town has given me more than I ever imagined. And because the man who stood between me and that blade, who held my hand through the worst of it, who showed me what love really looks like... is right here."
I walk forward. The crowd parts like they knew this moment was coming. I was going to do this after the event, but I can’t wait anymore, not after everything she has said.
She blinks at me. Her lips part. And I drop to one knee.
Gasps ripple through the room. Lena freezes. Her hands fly to her mouth.
"You want to know what strength looks like?" My voice is rough. Because I’m holding back the emotions lodged in my throat right now. "It looks like you. Standing up here, telling the hardest parts of your life out loud so someone else might feel a little less alone."
She shakes her head, already crying.
"I’m not proposing because you need saving. I’m proposing because you saved me, too. Because I love you, Lena. Because I want to spend the rest of my life making you feel safe, and wanted, and so damn loved you forget you ever knew anything else."
I pull the small velvet box from my pocket and open it.
"Marry me?"
Tears run freely down her cheeks now, but she nods so hard I think her neck might give out. "Yes. Yes, Zeke."
The room erupts. Applause, cheers, even some sniffles.
I slip the ring on her finger and rise just in time to catch her as she throws herself into my arms. Her mouth finds mine, warm and salty and full of promises. And as everyone around us celebrates, I know one thing for sure:
Lena is mine. And our forever starts right now.
Epilogue
Lena
Three blissful years later
I push open the firehouse door, the scent of engine oil and burnt coffee hitting me before it even swings shut. It’s familiar now. It smells like home.
Balanced on my hip is Savannah—two years old, curly-haired, all sass and sticky fingers. She’s clinging to her bunny in one hand and smearing chocolate on my shirt with the other. The Tupperware of still-warm cookies rests in my free hand, already a little lopsided from her attempts to sneak one during the drive.
I only baked them for one man.
My husband, Zeke.
I spot him before he sees me—standing near the engine, laughing at something Maddox says. His turnout pants hang low on his hips, suspenders stretched over a tight white tee that hugs his broad chest like a second skin. His jaw’s scruffy, hair a little messy from the morning drill. And I swear to God, he’s never looked sexier.
“Delivery for the world’s hottest firefighter,” I call, hoisting the container up as Savannah lets out a delighted “Daaaaddy!”
Four heads swivel in our direction. Levi, the fire chief, raises an eyebrow. “You talking about him?” He jerks a thumbtoward Zeke. “Must be the uniform. That thing gives people delusions.”
