Gasps were heard throughout the stadium.
“Marry me? Make me the happiest man alive.” I opened the box revealing my mom’s ring. The same one I saw when I’d closed my eyes before my surgery. It was a three carat antique-cut diamond solitaire, with the words My heart for yours engraved on the inside. Dad said when he engraved it, he had only thought of his love for Mom. Never once did he suspect that it would have a deeper meaning for all of us.
Maybe, just maybe, everything did happen for a reason. Maybe there was no such thing as a coincidence. I gulped, waiting for Kiersten’s answer.
With a shout, she threw her arms around my neck knocking me to my back. Her mouth found mine.
I tasted her lips and growled against them. “That a yes?”
“That’s a what the heck took you so long?” She smacked me on the chest and then looked away as tears streamed down her face. “I love you Wes Michels.”
“Oh, yeah.”
She grinned and pointed to her shirt. “You like?”
“I love.”
“I heart Wes Michels,” she whispered and kissed my mouth again. “I would have given you mine, you know…”
“What?” I asked confused, still holding her.
“My heart…” Her lower lip trembled. “I would have given it to you — to save you. I would have done anything.”
“I’ll still take it.”
“What?”
“Your heart,” I whispered. “I’ll still take it, if the offer stands. I want all of it, even the broken pieces, the shredded ones that no longer fit. I want all of them — all of you. I need it all.”
“You have it.” She tightened her grip around my neck as she jumped into my arms and wrapped her legs around my waist.
Camera crews were going crazy, trying to get every angle of our bodies, and then, exactly as I’d planned it, the fireworks went off in perfect tune with the song Beneath Your Beautiful.
“Wow.” She breathed, letting her head fall back as she looked at the sky. ”You do things big, don’t you?”
“I am a Michels.” I winked. “Now, let’s go win that game.”
We could have lost and I would have still been happy. Luckily, we didn’t. The green and yellow were no more. Gabe looked ready to cry tears of joy, and then he started trash talking, so we escorted him away from other fans.
I grabbed Kiersten’s hand and kissed it.
“I just wanted to get her home.”
Being named MVP? Meant nothing. NFL scouts? Nothing. But Kiersten? Hell, yeah. She was everything. I left early. I said goodbye to the cameras, the lights, the fame — I just wanted her. And in that dark tunnel as we walked out of the stadium, feeling my mom’s ring against her finger, I knew I was starting the rest of my life.