Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“What?” My soon-to-be fiancée mouthed.
I shrugged and murmured, “Just happy.”
She beamed, which told me she’d lipread me correctly.
“Okay, let’s dig into this delicious pudding. It smells amazing, darling,” Mum called loudly down the table to me.
“Good.”
“We didn’t do a toast before we dug into the food.” Cammie raised her half-empty wineglass, grinning as she looked around the table. “To Quinn and Taran, for battling through an epic love story so they could provide us with this excellent Christmas table!”
“Aye, that’s why we did it, Cam. To feed you at Christmas.”
My sister cackled at my dry tone. “To Quinn and Taran!”
“To Quinn and Taran!” Our guests raised their glasses in unison.
“Did you say yes?!” Angus squealed at Taran. “Did I miss it?”
Oh fuck.
“Angus.” Heather shook her head frantically at him.
My son seemed confused. “But … but we toasted them.”
“Say yes to what?” Taran frowned.
I gave my daughter a look, begging her to deny that she’d told Angus about the proposal. I loved my son dearly, but he couldn’t keep a secret to save himself.
Heather, unfortunately, winced. “Sorry.”
“Say yes to what?”
“To Dad,” Angus chirped. Then he finally read the room, his gaze darting to mine in horror. “Oh … oops.”
Taran’s spoon fell and hit her bowl, splashing ice cream and caramel sauce into London’s face.
London blinked in surprise but then calmly wiped off the dessert with the napkin Murray held out to her.
Taran gaped at me.
Fuck, shit, fuck.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Angus sniffled.
“It’s okay, bud,” I assured him as an awful silence fell across the tables.
“Quinn? Were you … are you going to … is there a …” Taran’s voice trailed off after its pitch just got too high for her to continue without squawking.
I sank back in my seat, abandoning dessert. “Tomorrow … tomorrow I planned to take you to our cove and ask you to marry me with the ring I have hidden under our mattress.”
Everyone’s heads swiveled in unison to Taran.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parting wider and wider with her surprise.
For a moment, my heart stopped.
Had I been too certain she’d say yes?
Oh fuck, was she going to crush me in front of our entire family?
“Yes!” Taran suddenly yelled comically, the word bursting out of her. “Yes! Y-yes, y-yessuh!” It ended on a sob as her face crumpled with tears.
My chair slid out behind me as I quickly launched from it and hurried to the other end of the tables to pull my crying fiancée into my arms. “Is that a yes?” I teased, pressing kisses to her wet cheeks.
She nodded, unable to speak, and buried her face in my chest as our family cheered and clinked glassware together. “I love you so much,” Taran mumbled against my shirt, holding on to me for dear life.
“Oh, Mo luaidh …” I bent my head to speak softly in her ear, “No word exists in any language to describe the depth of my love for you.”
She sobbed a little harder but finally lifted her head to kiss me with everything she felt, uncaring of our audience.
When Heather and Angus interrupted to throw their arms around us, I pulled them in close, assuring my son all was well. This was better, I promised him. This was perfect. Proposing to Taran with my children here was symbolic of how far we’d come. Of who we were now. Of what our love had become.
We were two halves of a whole, Taran and I, incomplete without the other. But my other half was incomplete without Angus and Heather.
I wasn’t myself without each of them.
It was finally the end of a nineteen-year existence of feeling like something was missing.
With Taran at our side, I was myself in my entirety.
We were ourselves in our entirety.
And when you had that kind of certainty in life, it made you strong enough to anchor yourself against any storm that blew your way.
Taran and I would never be blown adrift from each other ever again.
*******