It was done—it couldn’t break any more than it just had. If Jude didn’t want it, I didn’t need it any ways.
Making myself hold my head high, I followed behind one of the guards, the other one keeping stride beside me as I left the field. The stadium was silent again as I felt the eyes of every person watching me being escorted from the field where I’d just bared my soul.
Where I’d left it there to die.
My future was flashing through my mind as we crossed into the dark tunnel, looking bleak and empty. My future, Judeless, wasn’t one I looked forward to waking up to every day.
I was midway through the tunnel, at the point where it is darkest, when something buzzed to life in the stadium. It startled me just as much as it had the first time. The two guards froze right along with me, but their mouths didn’t curve into smiles like mine did.
“Lucy Larson?” That voice I couldn’t possibly love any more without being declared mentally unstable rose through the stadium. “Could you come back out here? I need to ask you something.”
The guards groaned. I almost squeed I was so giddy, and Lucy Larson didn’t normally do giddy.
“Ready to make this a round trip, boys?” I said, already heading back down that tunnel whether they felt the need to escort me or not.
Their footsteps indicated they were following behind me. I wasn’t slowing to wait for them. Hurrying out of the tunnel, the light of the stadium blinded me for a moment, but then a flash of orange and white decorating the fifty yard line cleared my vision. Jude straddled that line, his helmet at his feet, and his eyes nowhere else but on me.
His face gave nothing away, but I didn’t care if he was out there to chastise me in front of everyone or if he was planning on making sweet love to me right there on the field. I wasn’t turning my back on him again.
I told myself to walk, to put one foot in front of the other, but I couldn’t. All I was capable of was running. And fifty yards had never felt so far away and never had I wanted anything as much as what I wanted at the end of those fifty yards.
The crowd wasn’t silent any more. People were starting to cheer; the wave even started to ripple through the stands. But the only thing I really noticed was the man watching me, keeping some emotion that was so intense I could feel it coming off of him in waves contained beneath the surface.
Slowing to a jog, I stopped before throwing myself into his arms. This had to be one of the few times I’d approached Jude and his arms hadn’t been open.
“That was one hell of a speech, Luce,” he said, his face finally breaking into a smirk. Almost identical to the one he’d given me that day on the beach when he’d crashed into me.
“I was wondering how far you’d let me get,” I said, feeding him back his line that day on the beach.
When I’d fallen for a broken boy that had managed to fix me somewhere along the way.
“How far do you think you had until you hit the edge of the world?” he replied, his smirk deepening.
“I’d say I fell over it a ways ago,” I answered, knowing I’d fallen so long ago I couldn’t remember when my feet had been planted on solid ground.
Jude stepped closer to me, resting one hand on my hip. “Then it’s a damn good thing you grabbed on to that rope I told you we’d need when the ground fell out.”
I smiled as his expression softened.
“Damn good thing, indeed,” I said, feeling the warmth from his hand melt away whatever confusion or uncertainty or doubt was left. “Didn’t you say you had something to ask me?” I arched a brow, scanning the crowd and the cameras aimed at us. “Because I’d say we’ve got five more seconds before they send for the SWAT team.”
Jude blew out a breath, that foreign flash in his eyes looking… nervous?
“I wasn’t planning on doing it this way,” he said, one side of his mouth curling up, “but I suppose that’s par for our course, Luce.”
“Did that concussion knock something loose?” I teased, amused at this bout of discomfort rolling off of him.
“No, I still see everything as clearly as I did before,” he answered, tugging on a chain around his neck. “And it’s about time you saw it too.”
Throwing the microphone to the side, he stepped back. The crowd exploded into an equal chorus of cheers and boos.
Then, taking a deep breath, Jude lowered down to the field. On one knee.
Damn. My knees were about to join his.
Sliding the chain over his head, a ring dangled from the end of it.
“I know I’m one royal screw up, and god knows there’s nothing I could ever do to deserve you,” he began, taking my hand in his after sliding the ring free from the chain. I couldn’t fill my lungs, I couldn’t feel my legs below me, but I could feel his hand around mine. And he kept me grounded.