Page 66 of With This Mask
"Only when it comes to you." His words ring true; with him, pretenses fall away effortlessly. "Remember when you couldn't stand me?" There's a playful edge to his voice masking an underlying question.
“Because you were such a rich asshole?” I point out.
“Like you weren’t prejudiced,” he calls me right out.
I smirk and shake my head. He isn’t wrong. I judged Alec for years without speaking more than a few words to him.
My gaze fixes on the horizon. It’s like a painting. The sky is stained a dramatic display of golds and reds. The warm breeze is just right. It’s the perfect night. I’m not sure if it’s an ending or beginning. But I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
“Thank you,” Alec says softly, all seriousness returning.
“For what?” I ask, leaning back into him more deeply.
“For seeing me. For letting me be all of me. For loving me still.”
The words are so raw. So honest. I reach a hand up, cradling the side of his face. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
Alec shifts, and I feel him take something from his pocket. My eyes glance down when he holds something up, and then my heart explodes into a thousand little butterflies.
“Marry me?”
He holds a black box with a diamond ring set in the center of it. It’s easily the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. And perfect. Not obnoxiously huge, Vanderholt style, but large enough to tell the world I am claimed.
The ring glints between us, a tangible promise, and my breath catches. "Holy shit, Alec. Is this for real?" I twist in his arms, needing to see it in his eyes.
"Damn right it is." His grin is all confidence, but there's a tremor in his hand that tells me he's just as wrecked by this moment as I am. And slowly, he sinks down on one knee, holding that ring box in front of him. “What do you think, Salem? Will you marry me?”
“Holy shit, yes!” I throw my arms around him, the ring box getting crushed between our bodies. "Yes," I breathe out against his neck, laughter bubbling up from somewhere deep within me. The word feels like a key unlocking something vast and thrilling. "Yes, I'll marry you."
His laugh rumbles through me, strong arms pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. He smells like summer and success, a scent I've come to crave more than air.
"Good, because I wasn't planning on taking no for an answer."
"Wouldn't expect anything less from you, Vanderholt." My words are muffled against his shirt, but I know he hears the affection laced through them.
We stand wrapped in each other, the sounds of the city a distant hum compared to the symphony of our racing hearts. It's chaotic and perfect, and I can't help the laugh that escapes me. It's a sound full of life, of a future filled with late-night debates, lazy Sunday mornings tangled in sheets, and battles fought side by side.
I release Alec, and he plucks the ring from its box. And holding my gaze the whole time, he slides it onto my finger. It’s the perfect fit.
“We really did it,” I breathe out as he rises to his feet, bringing both hands to either side of my face. “Didn’t we?”
"Us? We can do anything." Alec's certainty wraps around me like a vow, stronger than any spoken oath.
"Even put up with your snoring?" I tease, tipping my chin up defiantly.
"Hey, I do not?—"
"Sure, sure." I cut him off with a quick kiss, stealing his indignation and turning it into something softer, sweeter. "But you're right. We're fucking unstoppable."
As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of pink and gold, a sense of hope swells within me. We step forward together, leaving behind the shards of who we were, ready to leap into the boundless unknown of who we'll become.
"What do you think about me becoming the future Mr. Winters?” His words are hesitant when he says them. Alec is always confident, always cocky. But not now. Not at this request.
My eyes rip to his, and I’m suddenly humbled. “You mean that?” I ask.
Alec nods, and I knew he meant the words before he confirmed. He’d said it to me once, when he told me he was cutting himself off from his father, that he’d get rid of the name Vanderholt if he could.
And now he can.