Page 153 of Fangirl
Next to them, Pea is perched on the armrest like a suspicious chaperone, wearing his pirate eyepatch that now reads in sparkly silver script: “Say Yes.”
“Wh—”
I don’t finish the question because when I turn around,Jake is no longer standing behind me.
He’s on one knee.
My heart stutters.
He’s holding a small, dark-blue box in both hands. His fingers tremble just slightly.
“The thing is, Fangirl… I didn’t really ask. And you didn’t really say yes. I said it didn’t matter, but it does.”
My breath catches.
“I love you in ways that make me understand why poetry exists. Why wars were fought. Why madmen have chased dreams across oceans. And I want you to be my wife, not in a possessive, primal way that makes you frown”—his lips twitch, just barely—“but in a way that means you belong to me as completely as I belong to you.”
He clears his throat, and I see the emotion rising behind his steady voice.
“I’ve made a lot of choices in my life for the wrong reasons. But not this. Not you. Whether it’s Jake or Eli, or whatever version of me shows up… I love you. All of you. I’m convinced you were made for me in this life, the last, and the next. And even if everything else falls apart, I’ll be okay. As long as you’re beside me.”
Then he opens the box.
The ring inside makes my knees go weak.
Platinum vines curl delicately around a center diamond and two sapphires. It’s not huge. Not flashy. It looks like it was plucked from the pages of a storybook and shaped by someone’s whole heart.
It looks like us.
I cover my mouth with my hand, and the tears come, happy,ridiculous, overwhelming tears.
Jake looks up at me with that uneven, vulnerable smile. “So what do you say, Amy Sinclair? Will you marry me?”
Penis, Penis, Penis.
“Yes, yes, I'll marry you! Penis.”
Jake blinks. “Did you just say?—?”
“Penis,” I say again, half laughing, half sobbing. “I panicked!”
He bursts out laughing, full-on doubled over, still on one knee. “God, I love you so much.”
I nod, wiping my eyes. “I was going to say something profound, but then you had to go and pull out literal poetry and a fairy-tale ring, and my brain just short-circuited and went straight to dicks.”
Jake stands and pulls me into his arms, crushing me to his chest. “Best proposal acceptance in the history of mankind.”
“I’ll have it engraved on our wedding bands,” I mumble into his shirt. “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you. Penis.”
He kisses the top of my head, then tilts my chin up to meet his gaze. “I don’t need perfect. I just need you.”
“Lucky for you,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck, “you’ve got me. Forever.”
Pea meows loudly like he's officiating the moment.
And I swear, just for a second, I see Jake glance at him and say, “You may now kiss the bride.”
The kiss turns from sweet to something far more passionate, slow and deep, like he’s trying to anchor himself to the moment as he walks us backward to my bedroom.
