Authors: Tasha Ivey
“What’s going on? I don’t get it.”
Of course, though, that’s when my parents come through the door with another bouquet of flowers. I’m not sure why it took me so long, but I’m beginning to realize what’s going on here. Sawyer has been doing some scheming. Big time.
“We love you, sweetheart,” they say in unison before leaning in to hug me.
Instead of asking more questions that I know they won’t answer, I take the flowers from them, overwhelmed by the sweet gesture and trouble that Sawyer went through to make me feel special. Even if the notes are a tad on the cryptic side. This time, the charm is a red pair of lips.
Nothing is clear to me, including my vision, which is now blurred with my own tears. I have no clue what’s going on. I don’t know where Sawyer is, and I don’t know why everyone is bawling their eyes out. Hell, now I am.
“Would someone please explain?” I plead with them, but if anyone answers me, I don’t hear a word. The slap of the screen door is followed by Sawyer’s appearance. He doesn’t have any flowers . . . only his guitar hanging around his shoulders.
My eyes meet his, and I can see that even he has moisture in his eyes. My favorite lopsided grin pulls up one side of his mouth, and I start laughing. Crying. Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know that the amount of love that I can see in his eyes—even the amount of love and support I feel in this room—is far more than I’ve ever felt before. It’s overwhelming.
Dalton drags a chair over in front of me, and Sawyer sits down, positioning the side of his guitar over his knee. “Hi.”
I laugh nervously and wipe under my eyes. “Hi.”
“I’m sure you want to know what all of this is about, right?”
I nod my head emphatically. “Please.”
“Well, I needed a way to explain just what you mean to me, and I couldn’t think of a better way to do it than this. Those words on those notes are from a Boyce Avenue song, but I want to finish it by actually singing the end to you.”
I think back to what each one said, and the song doesn’t sound familiar to me. I guess he picked one that I haven’t ever heard. “Okay.”
He clears his throat and looks at the positioning of his fingers before he looks back up to me. His eyes never leave me once he begins strumming the slow tune, and just like when he did the video of him singing, I feel the world fall away like it’s just the two of us here. When his deep, haunting voice fills the room, even though I don’t know the words to the song, he makes me
feel
their meaning before he ever sings them. I see it in his eyes and sense it in the air all around me.
“And when you feel no saving grace,
Well I’m on my way, on my way.
And when you’re bound to second place,
Well I’m on my way, on my way.
So don’t believe it’s all in vain,
Cause I’m on my way, on my way.
The light at the end is worth the pain,
Cause I’m on my way, on my way.”
He stops singing, even though he continues to play, and I can see nothing but pure, raw emotion on his face. He’s choking down the tears as hard as he can but not succeeding. A soft smile stays on his lips, though. He’s genuinely happy, and it makes my heart ache and warm at the same time.
The music slows, and he swallows hard. His smile falls away, and he becomes more intense. The air in the room suddenly feels like a solid mass.
“I’ll be there the moment
You come out in white,
‘Cause I’m on my way, on my way.”
I try to wrap my mind around those last words as he plucks the final notes. The deafening silence in the room is
not
helping either. “I . . . wait . . . are you, uh . . .”
He hands his guitar to Dalton, who hands him another folded slip of paper. Sawyer holds it out to me, silencing my stuttering. I open it to reveal another charm—an infinity symbol.
I smile and look back up at him, ready to fling myself at him. Ready to tell him that forever is his. But he’s now on the floor in front of me . . . on one knee.
Both of my hands fly to my mouth, failing to cover the gasp that flies from my lips. I hear Callie giggle, and my eyes dart over to her. I forgot all these people were even here. Everyone is watching every move I make, and their smiles convey more than words ever could. There are so many times in life when words just aren’t enough. I’ll never have the right ones for this moment.
“Makenna,” Sawyer begins, taking both hands away from my face and holding them tight in one of his. “I wasn’t a part of your life for so long, but I think I’ve always been led to find you. I’ve always been on my way. Just like the song explained, I missed out on so many parts of your life, but you’ve always been meant for me. I don’t want to miss another moment. I don’t want to miss a single breath you take. You tell me that I saved you, but darlin’, you saved me, too. You saved me from myself. You gave me a chance at life that my own parents failed to give me.”
He leans up to press a soft kiss to my lips, and he cups my cheek in his hand. “You gave me hope that I would find the feeling of being complete—the feeling I’ve been searching for my entire life. I didn’t realize it for a long time, but you are the final piece of that puzzle.
You
make me complete.” He pauses to pull a ring from his pocket and holds it out to me. “I want forever with you, Makenna. Will you please do me the honor of being my wife?”
“Yes, but . . .” Everyone begins to cheer, but silence falls over the room once again when they hear that last word.
“But?” Sawyer’s eyes are slightly squinted.
I let a slight grin curl the edges of my lips. “Forever isn’t long enough.”
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This book would not have been possible without the help and support of so many people. It would probably still be sitting in an electronic heap of junk in my laptop right now. So without further ado, I have a million people to thank!
First of all, a HUGE thanks to my sister, Ashton. She’s my sounding board for all things book related. We have hour-long phone conversations about my fictional characters as if they’re real, and by the end, I’m even more inspired. Oh, and she let me borrow her son’s name for this book. Also, thanks to my mom for reading and reading and reading and always supporting my work. She’s like a drug pusher, pimping my books to everyone she knows.
I have to mention my fellow authors, of course, that have been such a motivation to me. My Sprinting Sisters pushed me to write when I didn’t want to. And there are numerous authors that helped keep me on track, provided comic relief when I needed it, and gave me valuable advice: Molly McAdams, Raine Miller, HB Heinzer, JB McGee, Melissa Brown (my partner in Tuscan crime), #TeresaMummert (she’ll understand the hashtag), Michelle Valentine & Jenn Foor (my fellow freeballers), the ladies at The Indie Voice, and there are so many more that I’m leaving out. I’d have to write a book with just their names. Thank you all! You know who you are!
Let me tell you, my betas are amazing. Thank you, Elle Wilson, Kathy Brosch, Julie Deaton, and Katie Mac! And the bloggers that pushed this book to the end of the earth and back . . . I’ll adore you forever, and I will never ever forget what you’ve done for me. Nicola Farrell and Denise Tung (A.K.A. my wifeys) with Flirty & Dirty Book Blog and Kim Person with Shh Mom’s Reading were the first bloggers to jump on the Destiny Ever-changing bandwagon with both feet, and they never looked back. There’s nothing these ladies won’t do for me, and I hope I can find a way to properly thank them someday. Thank you!
Thank you, Whitney Reynolds, Corey Campbell, and Corey McKown, for making my cover possible. You’re all hilarious and seriously amazing. I wish you all well! Tim Carr, thanks for the gorgeous pictures. Again!
Thank you, Stacie Fugate for your cover model management. You might have missed your calling. I appreciate your help and inspiration. You are the walking definition of strength, girl, and I love you to pieces! Rest in peace, Norm. I’ll never forget that big smile.
Angela McLaurin with Fictional Formats is a genius. She makes my books so gorgeous, and she’s also one of my biggest cheerleaders. Thanks, girl!
Part of this book definitely wouldn’t be possible without Jessica Manzano. Thanks so much for reaching out to me! Because of you, my story has beautiful music that will create a lasting impression on anyone that reads it. Your kind words about my story mean a lot to me.
Boyce Avenue . . . I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to use your lyrics to Every Breath and On My Way. Those songs have transformed my story into something people can really connect with. I’m a long-time fan, and I hope I create a few more for you. Best of luck in all you do, guys. I wish you great success. You are truly talented, and you deserve it! Thank you.
And finally, to my readers, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You took a chance on this new author, gave me excellent feedback, and pushed me to become a better writer. Many of you have become my close friends, and I hope to make many more.
Thank You All!