The Spencer Cohen Series, Book Three(67)

By: N.R. Walker



Andrew stood and threw his arms around me. He buried his face in my neck, and we were quickly surrounded by a sea of hugging people. We were pulled apart and hugged and congratulated individually, which was nice and all, but they were not the arms I wanted to be in. I unpeeled Lola from around me and found Andrew being embraced by his father. I tapped Allan on the shoulder, cutting in on this dance of hugs, and waited for him to step aside.

Andrew stared at me and let out a nervous breath. My voice was thick with unshed tears. “You played ‘Hallelujah.’”

“I sang it. Which was quite possibly the worst thing I’ve ever done. I broke my leg when I was eight. That was reasonably unpleasant, but singing wins. I thought playing the piano would be bad enough, but singing? I can’t believe… I don’t even know what I was thinking when I planned this.”

It certainly explained the shots of tequila. I laughed and pulled him in for a soul-soothing hug. Having Andrew pressed against me was a medicinal thing. He mended me in ways he could never understand. “You were thinking it would be the most perfect proposal ever. And you put Jeff Buckley to shame.”

He smiled into my neck. “You liked it?”

“Loved it.” I pulled back and held his face in my hands and softly pressed my lips to his. My head was still spinning. “I can’t believe you did that. Do you really want to marry me?”

“There is nothing in this world I want more,” he whispered, “than to call you my husband.”

His sincerity, his honesty, and overwhelming love brought tears to my eyes. “I love you Andrew, and if there was a magazine called The Only Man I Want to Spend My Life With, I wouldn’t be on every cover. You’d be on the limited edition one. You know, just for me.”

He smiled so beautifully. “I was going to get a magazine made up with you on the cover called Who I Want To Marry, but thought you might think it silly.”

I burst out laughing. “It would have been great. But you and what you did here”—I waved at the stage and at our friends—“was so perfect.”

“Maybe we could do magazine covers for our wedding invitations,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but his mother squealed beside us.

“Oh, that is a fabulous idea!”

And so it began. Helen, Sarah, and Lola were already planning our entire wedding and the rest of our lives, by the sound of it. I didn’t care. Because in that moment, the background music started to play. Etta James began to sing “At Last” and I slow, slow danced with Andrew in the middle of our friends and family. I buried my face into Andrew’s neck and he held me even tighter.

Etta James’ soulful voice filled my chest with words of loneliness being over, and how life was now a song. She sang about finding dreams and heaven. And she was right, because I held him in my arms.

At last. At last, indeed.





THE END

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