Chapter 19 - The Proposal
The gallery opening wound down around midnight. After we finally tucked the twins into bed back at our Victorian house—both of them clutching their respective stuffed animals and snoring softly—Cassandra and I stepped out onto the wide front porch beneath a canopy of brilliant spring stars.
The night air was warm, carrying the sweet scent of blooming jasmine from the garden we had planted together earlier that month.
Cassandra leaned against the wooden porch railing, kicking off her heels with a contented sigh. "My feet are killing me, but that was... incredible, Damon. Did you see the local art reviewer from the Oregonian? She wants to feature my work in the summer catalog."
"I saw," I smiled, walking up behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist, resting my chin on her shoulder. "You're going to be famous, Cass. I might need to hire a publicist just to get an autograph."
She laughed, turning around within my arms to face me, her green eyes sparkling in the porch light. "Keep dreaming, Prescott. My autograph is reserved exclusively for family."
I reached slowly into my jacket pocket, my fingers brushing against a small, velvet-lined box I had been carrying around for the last week, waiting for the right moment. The right moment wasn't in a boardroom, and it wasn't on a private jet. It was right here, on a creaky wooden porch in Portland, surrounded by the life we had clawed our way back to build.
I dropped down onto one knee, resting on the weathered floorboards.
Cassandra’s breath hitched. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in absolute shock as the velvet box clicked open, revealing a simple, elegant platinum band inlaid with a single, clear diamond—no corporate flash, no extravagant display, just a promise.
"Damon..." she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
"We did this backward," I said, my voice steady, filled with a depth of emotion I hadn't even known I was capable of ten years ago. "We had the family, we had the chaos, we had the storm, and we had the healing. But I never formally asked the only woman I will ever love to spend the rest of her life with me."
Tears spilled over her eyelashes, tracing bright paths down her cheeks, but she was smiling—a brilliant, blinding smile that outshone every star in the Oregon sky.
"You're an idiot, Damon Prescott," she choked out, laughing through her tears. "You took six months to figure this out?"
May you like
"Better late than never," I grinned. "Will you marry me, Cass? No corporate secrets, no boardrooms, just us."
"Yes," she whispered, pulling me up into her arms, burying her face in my shoulder as we held each other tightly in the quiet spring night. "Yes, a million times yes."
