Chapter 275: Asher
It’s just after noon when we pull into the long gravel driveway that winds like a secret through the hills. The countryside here smells like spring, like sun–warmed grass and old oak and faint traces of lavender on the wind. She has no idea where we are, only that I told her to wear something comfortable and bring her smile.
She did both.
She’s practically glowing in the passenger seat, wearing a light sundress the color of fresh peaches and those little white sneakers she loves because they’re “practical but still cute.” She’s got her legs folded criss–cross, messy braid tossed over one shoulder, humming along to some old French song I put on just for her. She doesn’t know I’ve been planning this for six weeks.
“Okay,” she says when I kill the engine. “Where the heck are we?”
“You’ll see.”
She steps out and the breeze tugs at the hem of her dress. Her eyes are already wide as they scan the horizon. Miles and miles of flowers stretch beyond the rolling fences–wildflowers in every color, tangled in chaos and somehow more
beautiful for it.
“Holy…” she breathes. “Asher.”
I take her hand.
We walk slowly. The crunch of gravel gives way to soft grass. The fence is lined with blooms–daisies, coneflowers, wild poppies, tiny blue cornflowers–and between them all, movement.
Her breath hitches.
Tiny brown bunnies.
Dozens.
One darts out from a thick clump of clover and freezes mid–hop a few feet away. She crouches low and smiles, hand
outstretched.
“You planned this,” she says softly.
I grin. “Maybe.”
She glances over her shoulder at me. “You remembered.”
Of course I remembered.
That winter, four years ago, when everything was cold and brittle and broken. We’d been stuck at that retreat, freezing and tense. I still had half a dozen fresh scars and one still bleeding. But I’d wandered out into the woods that one morning and found a rabbit under the snow–heavy bramble. Carried it back in my arms like some sort of silent peace offering.
She held it like it was made of light.
And she smiled in a way I hadn’t seen since before the mission.
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Chapter 275: Asher
I’ll never forget that.
“This is…” she looks around, blinking. “It’s like a dream.”
I let her soak it in. For a long while, we just walk–her fingers looped around mine, wind in our hair, little rabbits happing through the tall grass like soft punctuation to every gasp of delight that escapes her.
Then I lead her to the tasting barn.
It’s old and whitewashed and smells like honey and oak. Inside, the table is already set–small polished forks, crystal
glasses, tiny square plates.
“Cake tasting?” she asks, giddy.
“Not just any cake,” I say, pulling her chair out. “Six kinds. All chocolate.”
She claps like a child. “Oh my God, Asher.”
They bring them out on silver trays. Dark chocolate ganache with raspberry drizzle. White chocolate mousse layered with espresso sponge. Milk chocolate truffle with salted caramel. One slice has gold leaf curled on top. One has a little chocolate sculpture of a ballerina. The last one is a rich, dense flourless chocolate with fresh cherries.
She closes her eyes after the first bite. “This is what heaven tastes like.”
I lean over. “No. That’s you.”
She rolls her eyes, laughing, cheeks glowing pink.
She doesn’t notice the vineyard owner whispering to me behind the counter. Or the slow trickle of guests arriving in the distance, guided down the back path, hidden from her view.
Because right now, this is just us.
And I want her to think it’s just us for as long as possible.
After the cake, we walk again–this time toward the vineyard at the back of the property where they’re teaching people to
crush grapes the old–fashioned way.
She hesitates when she sees the basin. “Do I have to?”
“You don’t have to do anything,” I tell her. “But you will look adorable.”
She glares at me playfully, kicks off her sneakers, and lifts the hem of her dress as she steps in. The grapes are cold and
squish under her feet, and she squeals.
“Oh my God it’s disgusting!”
“Yep,” I laugh. “Keep going.”
She stomps and twirls and giggles while purple juice splashes up her calves and knees. The vineyard workers cheer her on, and I take a dozen mental snapshots of the way she glows under the sun, how she lifts her arms and closes her eyes and just… lives.
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Chapter 275: Asher
I’m standing at the edge of the basin when she looks up at me and cocks her head.
“You’re not coming In?”
“I’d rather watch.”
“Pervert,” she says sweetly, then grins. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
I really am.
Not just the sight of her dress stuck to her knees, or the gleam of sweat on her throat. But the way she’s happy. The way she’s safe. The way, even now, after everything, I can still give her something new to smile about.
She steps out and I hand her a towel.
She notices my watch then. “What time is it?”
“Almost four.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re planning something.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
Her laugh is suspicious. And curious. And just a little excited.
Good.
Because she has no idea that in less than an hour, she’ll be walking into the field behind the barn… and see everyone.
All our people.
And what I’ll be doing.
But not yet.
For now, she’s barefoot and flushed and licking chocolate off the corner of her lip while wild bunnies play at her feet, and I’ve never loved her more.
Not yet.
But soon.
Very soon.
The tacos are dripping all over our hands.
It’s ridiculous, honestly–how messy they are. Spicy carne asada with too much guac and those grilled onion wrapped in paper–thin tortillas that fear the second you touch them. A complete disaster.
ves,
But she’s laughing, biting into one like it’s a feast, juice running down her wrist as she leans forward over the bench by the river. Her golden braid sticks/to the side of her neck where sweat is starting to collect from the warmth of the afternoon sun, and there’s hot sauce on the corner of her mouth. She’s glowing. Unbothered. Carefree.
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Chapter 275 Asher
She’s perfect.
I mean it perted.
We’re bandoot row, feet dangling off the riverbank, toes grazing the cool water. Little silver fish dart around below. catching the light like glimmers of polished coins. A turtle glides lazily past, and she gasps like a child and nudges ine with hey foot. “Look, Asher,”
1.do.
At her.
I can’t stop looking.
The ring in my pocket feels heavier with every passing minute. It’s tucked deep, wrapped tight in a little black velvet box I’ve been carrying for weeks now–weeks, but planning for years.
A gold band. Simple. Like her.
No–like the truth of her. Not the fancy dresses and stage lights and applause, Just her. Quiet, gentle, sunshine–wrapped Penny. With her warm smile and patient soul and fiercely loyal heart.
And that oval–cut diamond on top? That’s the light she brings into every room.
I was going to do this later, when we met up with everyone. The field’s already set up, flowers and lights, music. Rooster probably has the champagne chilled by now, and Boomer’s probably worrying he’ll miss his cue to hit play on the speakers. It’s all arranged.
But I can’t wait.
She’s sitting here beside me, one leg swinging slowly above the water, talking about how good the pineapple salsa was and how she wants to try recreating it at home and how maybe we should plant some fruit trees behind the house.
And I’m looking at her, really looking–at her flushed/cheeks, soft and full. At her lips, pink and shiny from the soda. At her lashes, long and curled, casting shadows on her cheekbones.
And I think–now.
I shift slightly, hand brushing toward my pocket.
But then she speaks. Softly.
“Asher?”
I freeze. “Yeah?”
mango
Her head tilts toward me, a little mischievous sparkle in her eye. “I think you have something very speci tonight.”
ed for
I blink.
The velvet box stills under my palm.
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Chapter 275: Asher
“…Maybe.”
She smiles, but there’s something nervous in it. Something sweet and cautious and trembling like a butterfly Wife
“Can I tell you something first?” she says.
I nod. “Of course.”
She turns slightly, pulling her bag closer to her side. Her hand digs through it–slow, deliberate–and I feel my pulse pick
- up. She doesn’t take anything out yet. Just holds it there, fingers curled around something invisible.
She looks up at me.
“I love you so, so much,” she says.
My heart trips.
Her voice is shaking now. “And I want to spend the rest of our lives together.”
I’m nodding already, breath caught in my throat, about to tell her she will, she is, she does-
But then she says it.
“The three of us.”
She pulls her hand out.
And in it… a small white stick.
My mind stutters.
I blink down at it, not registering the words on the screen right away. Just the soft pink lines. Two of them.
A pregnancy test.
Positive.
My jaw drops slightly.
I look at it.
Then at her.
Then back.
“Is this…?” I manage. My voice is a whisper. Barely there.
She nods, eyes already wet with tears.
I take it from her, hands trembling. My thumb brushes the smooth plastic like it’s made of glass.
Then I pull her into me, scooping her off the bench and into my lap like she weighs nothing.
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My hands settle over her stomach.
Warm.
Real.
Ours.
“My baby’s in there?” I ask, voice cracking.
She nods again.
And I swear, I’ve never known joy like this. Not in the Navy. Not even at the gala. Not even on that night when I saw her dance and felt like I’d watched heaven crack open.
This?
This is everything.
I kiss her–hard. Then slow. Then soft.
Then I kiss her belly, over the fabric, pressing my lips there like a vow.
“I’m gonna take care of you both,” I whisper. “Forever.”
She sniffles and laughs and buries her face in my shoulder.
And it’s not until we’re holding each other in the golden light, toes still in the river, turtles still swimming past like the world hasn’t just shifted entirely on its axis–that I remember.`
The ring.
I let out a soft, stunned laugh.
“I was about to propose, you know,” I murmur.
She pulls back. “What?”
I nod and dig into my pocket, revealing the little black box. I open it.
The ring glows gold. Just like her.
She gasps.
And then she starts crying again.
“You still can,” she whispers.
But I shake my head, smiling. “Penelope Vales, will you be my wife?”
She nods with silent tears and I slide the ring onto her finger anyway, without kneeling, without speeches, without theatrics.
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Chapter 275: Asher
Just the three of us.
By a river.
Holding everything that’s ever mattered.
Chapter Comments
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Ness C
Damnit now I have to review my last statement where I said the previous chapter was perfection! You went ahead and one–upped perfection to whatever this level is !!
loved this. just wished it continued a little longer. to peek in their future about 5 years. maybe a reunion to see where everyone is.
