Eventually, though, the frenzy died down. The reporters began to pack up, getting ready to leave. It was official, and the story was over.
Though not quite.
I was standing in the kitchen, rocking Jax, when Gibson came up behind me.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself, big football player.”
He grinned at me. “You’re good with Philadelphia, right?”
“I’m good with anywhere, so long as it’s with you.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” He kissed my lips softly. I felt a thrill run through me.
“Today was a good day,” I said.
“I want to make it better.”
“How could you possibly do that?”
He dropped down to one knee. The room was suddenly very, very still.
“Avery Carpenter, love of my damn life, I want you to marry me.” He opened a small black box and showed me the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen in my life.
I took a step back. Jax giggled in my arms.
“Is this real?” I asked him.
Everyone in the room laughed, including Gibson. “It’s real. Be my wife.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Okay, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.” He slipped the ring on my finger and then stood. We kissed for a long time as the room clapped and cheered.
Once the kiss was over, he kissed little Jax and then shook hands with everyone.
I stared down at my finger. The ring was enormous and beautiful. I had no clue where it had come from or how he had afforded it, but it was perfect.
That was the right word for this moment: perfect. I was going to be Gibson’s wife, and he was going to be a professional football player. Our son was handsome and healthy and things were right.
We were moving forward. There was nowhere else to go but forward, and that didn’t seem so scary with Gibson by my side.
I was right and I was good, and I had Gibson to keep making me feel perfect.
I couldn’t want anything else. I had my man and my baby.
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