The Certainty of Violet & Luke(72)

What the hell?

I reach to take my blindfold off as ‘The River’ by Manchester Orchestra starts playing through the stereo, really, really loud. A memory tickles at my mind and I throw off the blindfold. ‘Oh my God.’ My jaw instantly drops at the sight of the snowy mountains and trees before me, highlighted by the headlights of his truck.

Luke is waiting for me at the front of the truck, kicking the tips of his boots against the snow with his hands in the pockets of his coat. It takes me a moment or two to get the courage to do so, knowing that once I step foot out the door everything is about to change. I have to really think about it. Do I want that change?

Yes, I do. God, do I want the change.

With a trembling heart and fingers, I push open the door and step outside, leaving the door open so the music can flow outside. Luke doesn’t look up at me until I’m halfway around the truck, about to step up to him.

His eyes are filled with nerves and he’s shivering either from the cold or from the fact that he’s clearly nervous. ‘Now, if you listen really quietly,’ he says, cupping his ear as he leans toward the trees. ‘You can hear the faintest sound of crazy animals.’

I press my lips together, trying not to smile at the fact that he remembers that almost two years ago I set up this scenario, when a guy proposed to a girl in a restaurant in what I thought was a very cliché way.

I make my way over to him and he reaches into his pocket to take something out. I hold my breath in anticipation but then frown in confusion when he holds out the silver bracelet that belonged to my mother.

‘I thought you should have this on when this happened, so that your parents could be with you in a way.’ I try not to cry as he puts the bracelet on my wrist, but a tear or two slips from my eyes. Then he steps back and pats his pockets before letting out a breath. ‘Now, I know getting down on one knee is a little cliché.’ His smile is all nerves but it’s ridiculously adorable. ‘But I’m going to do it anyway.’

I suck in a deep breath as he drops down to his knee right there in the snow. Then he pulls out a small black box from his jacket and holds it up. ‘Violet Hayes, will you marry me?’

He opens the box up and if I wasn’t already going to say yes, I would have now. Because what’s inside it is my ring – the purple one surrounded by onyx gems that I was once given as a Christmas present, before it was taken away. Of course it’s not the exact same ring. It looks a bit smaller, but a bit shiner. It looks a bit more perfect.

I’m not going to cry, I tell myself. Because even though I let myself feel everything now, I don’t want to be that girl that sobs like a baby because she’s going to get married.

But I turn into that girl, tears pouring out of my eyes as I nod my head. Then getting back my dignity, I say, ‘Hell yeah, I’ll marry you.’

He laughs, but it looks like tears are staining his eyes too, the big softy that he is. Then he gets to his feet, puts the ring on my finger, and kisses me the way he’s been kissing me every day for two years.

With passion.

With certainty.

With love.





Have you read the first book in the story of Violet and Luke? Find out how it all began in The Destiny of Violet and Luke …


Read an extract here – the book is available to buy now.





Prologue


Luke


(Eight years old)


I hate running, but it always seems like I’m doing it. Always running everywhere. Always trying to hide. I hide just as much as I run, but if I don’t then bad things will happen. Like getting found. Or getting forced to do things that make me sick to my stomach. Getting forced to help her.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” my mom singsongs as I run out the front door of my house. Her voice is slurred, which means she’s been taking her medication again. She takes her medication a lot and it doesn’t make any sense to me. I have to take medication sometimes, too, but because I get sick. Whenever she takes it, it seems to make her sicker.

She used to not be like this, well not as bad anyway. About a year ago, when my dad was still around she would act normal and not take medication. Now, though, she does it a lot and I think she might be going crazy. At least she seems that way compared to everyone else’s moms. I see them picking up my friends from school and they always look happy and put together. My friends are always glad to see them and they don’t run and hide from them, like I do all the time.

I race around to the back of the house, running away from the sound of her voice as she chases after me, looking for me. She’s always looking for me and I hate when she does—hate her sometimes for always making me run and hide. And for finding me. I usually hide underneath the bed or in the closet or somewhere else in the house, but she’s been finding me quicker lately, so today I decided to hide outside.