Charlotte’s POV
"My love, you overdid it," I said the mont we were finally alone in his place, away from the cheers, the music, and the overwhelming joy of the evening.
Jack smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he closed the door behind him. "I would do it all over again," he said, stepping closer. "I’d do anything and everything for you. I wanted tonight to be perfect. I needed you to know just how much you an to . Did you like the surprise?"
I couldn’t help the smile that blood across my lips, my heart fluttering from everything that had happened. "Like it?" I echoed. "Jack, I loved it. You made feel like I was living in a dream. You make so happy... more than I ever thought I could be."
"I’m glad," he murmured, his voice low and sincere as he gently cupped my face in both hands. His thumbs brushed against my cheeks, wiping away the last traces of tears I didn’t even realize I still had. His touch was grounding, tender, and reverent.
"I love you," he whispered, his gaze holding mine with such intensity that it stole my breath. "And I can’t wait to make you my wife."
And then he kissed .
Not like before. Not like any of the kisses we had shared in fleeting monts or stolen glances.
This kiss was deeper, fuller, slow, and consuming, like he poured every unsaid word into it. Like he was claiming a forever we had both been aching for.
His arms wrapped around as if letting go wasn’t an option, and mine clung to him with the sa urgency. We weren’t just celebrating a proposal. We were promising sothing greater, without even needing vows.
Because in that kiss, I felt it all.
He hadn’t just spent money. He had poured his heart into every detail, every mont, every second of tonight, just to make it unforgettable for .
And as I lted into his embrace, I knew without a doubt—I had never been more loved, more cherished, or more certain of forever in my entire life.
"I think you should stay here and let your right hand manage the café for now," Jack said, brushing a few strands of hair behind my ear. "I don’t want you getting stressed, not with everything going on."
I let out a soft laugh, amused by how protective he was being. "And what exactly do you want to do here? Just sit around and wait for you to co ho every day?" I teased as I settled comfortably onto his lap.
He gave that familiar grin—the one that always lted my heart. "No," he said, his voice low and warm as he wrapped his arms around my waist, anchoring to him. "I want you to start preparing for our wedding. I wanted to marry you the mont you said yes, but I also want you to have the most beautiful wedding—one you’ll never forget."
I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "Jack... I don’t need a grand wedding," I said quietly, seriously.
He looked down at , slightly startled by the softness in my tone. "You don’t?"
I shook my head. "No. I’ve been thinking about it, and I wanted to talk to you."
"I’m listening, my love," he murmured, his fingers threading gently through my hair.
"I want sothing simple. Intimate," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. "Just us, our families, and a few close friends. I don’t need a ballroom or a hundred guests. What matters to is that I’m marrying you. That we’re surrounded by the people we love and that we start our life together grounded in joy, not spectacle."
He smiled, his eyes filled with warmth and admiration. "You really are sothing else, you know that?"
I tilted my head up to et his gaze. "I just want happiness. Peace. Love. That’s more than enough for ."
Jack kissed my forehead, then murmured against my skin, "Your wish is my command, my love. If a quiet, beautiful wedding is what you want, then that’s exactly what we’ll have. All I care about is spending the rest of my life with you. And I think one month is enough preparation. I couldn’t wait to call you my wife."
He began planting soft, feather-light kisses along my neck, trailing them slowly down to my collarbone. My eyes fluttered shut as I lted into his touch, feeling the love and promise behind every kiss.
In that mont, surrounded by warmth, I realized sothing deeper than ever before: ho wasn’t a place. It was him.
"Cecily!"
I froze in the doorway, completely stunned to find her standing in Jack’s kitchen the next morning, casually slicing fruit as if she belonged there, which, knowing Cecily, she sohow always managed to do.
She looked up with a playful grin. "Hi! Aren’t you happy to see , Charlotte?"
"I—of course I am," I stamred, still trying to catch up with reality. "I just... wasn’t expecting you. At all."
I hadn’t even had coffee yet, and my best friend was already setting up breakfast in my fiancé’s kitchen like this were a regular Sunday brunch.
"I felt terrible for missing Jack’s proposal last night," she said, giving a mock pout. "I really tried, but all the flights were full. I knew I missed the fireworks—literally and emotionally, but hey, I’m here now. And I plan to help you with every detail of your wedding, so prepare yourself."
My heart ward as the shock lted into joy. Only Cecily could burst into my life unannounced and make it feel like everything was finally falling into place. I should’ve known Jack had sothing to do with this.
I turned to him, and sure enough, he was watching the scene with an amused smile as he untied the apron from around his waist. His sleeves were rolled up, and there was a faint trace of flour on his forearm—he’d been cooking again, and he sohow made even that look attractive.
Before I could even ask him if he had called her, Jack walked over, slid an arm around my waist, and pulled into a soft kiss.
"Surprised?" he murmured against my lips.
I nodded, still caught between laughter and awe. "You called her."
"Of course," he said, brushing his nose against mine. "You’d want her here. I know how much she ans to you."
Cecily let out a dramatic sigh behind us. "Okay, okay, I’m happy for you both, but please—can we keep the PDA limited while I’m holding a knife?"
We all laughed, and just like that, the kitchen filled with the kind of warmth that didn’t co from the oven.
I looked around—at the man I loved, the friend who’d flown across cities just to be here, and the morning sun pouring in through the window—and felt the kind of happiness that settles deep into your bones.
This was how forever was supposed to begin.
Jack wanted to stay, but I assured him I’d be fine. "Go," I told him with a smile, gently smoothing the collar of his shirt. "You’ve already given everything I need—and besides, Cecily’s with ."
He looked at for a long mont, as if morizing my face, then kissed my forehead before leaving. The door hadn’t even closed behind him when Cecily let out a squeal.
"Congratulations!" she bead, practically bouncing as she threw her arms around .
"Thank you," I said, my face glowing as I held out my hand, admiring the engagent ring Jack had slipped onto my finger the night before. It still felt surreal, like I was living in a dream I didn’t want to wake up from.
Cecily took my hand in hers, her eyes widening. "Wow," she breathed. "That must be worth a fortune. Jack outdid himself—he made sure you’d never forget this mont."
I laughed, touched by her enthusiasm. But before I could speak, she added, "Well, you are a Divenson. You deserve the most expensive ring in the world."
I shook my head, still smiling. "No, Cecily. I’m happy because I have him. I don’t care about the ring or the price—it’s Jack. That’s what matters. I’m his fiancée again... and that’s all I’ve ever wanted."
Cecily giggled and placed her hand over her heart. "That is so sweet, Charlotte. You sound like one of those romance novel heroines."
I grinned, warmth bubbling up inside . "Maybe I am."
She clapped her hands. "Okay, enough mushy stuff. We have a wedding to plan!"
We spent the entire day wandering through bridal boutiques, fabric stores, and tiny local shops tucked away in side streets. We could’ve hired a wedding planner, but I wanted to do it with my best friends. I wanted the process to be filled with mories, not checklists and deadlines. Every lace sample we touched and every gown we admired brought the dream to life.
Sowhere between cake tastings and bouquet arrangents, I told Cecily about my decision.
"I want the wedding to be held in Magnolia," I said, the words spilling out like a secret I’d been carrying close to my heart. "Sowhere quiet, intimate. And I want the reception at Jack’s family restaurant. That place holds so many mories for both of us—it feels like ho."
She looked at , eyes shining. "That’s perfect."
That night, after Jack returned, we curled up on the couch together. I rested my head on his shoulder as he gently traced circles on the back of my hand.
"Are you sure about that, my love?" he asked softly when I told him.
I nodded. "Yes. I don’t want ballrooms or glittering lights. I want Magnolia. I want where we had our second chance, where we fell in love once again. And I want to celebrate it in the place your grandparents built with their own hands."
Jack’s eyes softened. "Then, Magnolia it is. I’ll make sure it’s the most beautiful day of your life."
I smiled and whispered, "It already is."
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