“We have time,” Logan tells her. “A whole lifetime.”

I gaze up at him and the conversation that we had just after his proposal plays through my mind. I told him that I wasn’t going to defend our decision, and I have no intentions of doing so. But I do want to explain something to my mom that might just calm her concerns. However what I have to say is personal, very personal, and it would make me feel vulnerable admitting it to one person, let alone our extended audience.

Dammit, all of a sudden I wish I had let her take me aside to discuss this. I become emotional just thinking about it.

“Here’s the only thing that you need to know, mom,” I take a deep breath. “I know what it’s like to spend eight years in a relationship where I don’t feel wanted,” I say, and fuck, the sheer difference in how I feel now, compared to this time last year, staggers me. Life has become so beautiful. It’s taken me until the age of twenty-seven, but since meeting Logan for lunch that day, I finally feel like I’m really alive. “Where I don’t feel wanted,” I repeat, “or loved, or appreciated, or respected.” I look up at Logan and my bottom lip trembles slightly. I take another deep breath. “You start to create expectations about yourself, you know? Like, maybe true love just isn’t on the cards for me?” I look at Logan again and my lip wobbles even more. How could I ever have thought that, when all that time he was waiting for me? “When feeling like that is all you know, and then suddenly you meet someone who blows up all of your expectations…it changes everything,” I tell our parents. “Logan makes me feel good, and worthy, and like I actually mean something in this world. I’d like to believe that he’s right,” I say simply.

My mom’s expression is a mixture of things: shock, concern, sadness.

“This is hard for me to say to you because I love you, mom,” I say, finally choking up, “but I really can’t care what you say about us because we are certain. We’d be fucking idiots to postpone something that feels so right, and good, and calm, and clear.”

“Clear as day,” Logan smiles at me

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I say to him, before turning to look at our audience once again. “No more questions, no divide and conquer,” I tell my mom and Rupert. “We’re decided.”

Less than a second later, Logan is in front of me, his arms holding me tightly, his lips pressed firmly against mine. His broad back blocking our parents from view, I open my mouth and receive him fully, our tongues brushing against each other with a slow simmering fervour. It’s soft and sweet and meaningful, and I could happily stay immersed in this forever.

After several long moments, Logan whispers, “Now that’s how you make a statement.”

“I meant every word,” I grin at him. “You’re a game-changer, Leary.”

He laughs against my lips. “Ditto, baby.”

He straightens up and turns around, and while I thought perhaps our parents would be busy discussing us, they’re not. Their eyes are fixed on Logan and I, and it would appear that my words have silenced them.

Mary-Gene’s reaction is gratifyingly similar to mine. Her bottom lip trembles violently as she gets to her feet and bypasses her own son to pull me into a warm hug. “I think it’s wonderful,” she whispers to me, making me smile broadly. “You have my full support.”

“Thank you,” I say to her.

We then watch as Rupert approaches Logan, trying his best to be stoic, but as he hugs his son, he too loses his composure. “You two telling us this news here…well, I don’t think it could be anymore fitting. I’m full of pride tonight, Logan,” he says, his eyes watering. “You’ve exceeded all of my expectations of you, truly. I’m in awe of the man you’ve become. I love you, son,” he manages to choke out, before embracing Logan once more.

“I love you too, dad,” Logan says earnestly. “But what about Taylor?” he then asks his parents.

“Don’t you worry about Taylor,” Rupert tells him. “He has his own demons to conquer, like you had yours. You two focus on you,” he says to me, “and you leave Taylor to us,” he says to Logan, and Mary-Gene nods in agreement. They got one son out of a dark space, here’s hoping that they can get the other one out too, I think.

“Thank you,” Logan says to his parents.

Two down, one to go. The four of us grow silent, awaiting my mom’s verdict. I look at her, and see her surveying Logan carefully, and it finally dawns on me where her resistance is coming from.

This moment is really hard for her. She’s never had to let me go before, never had to give my hand over to someone else, never, ever been replaced as my number one person. Although it was never spoken about, there was no danger of this ever happening with Jerry, not even when we moved to Paris together. I was always hers, and it was always just the two of us, ever since my father died. That’s changing. It’s already changed for me, but now I’ve sprung this on her and she’s trying hard to play catch up.

“Mom, I’m sorry that—” I start, but she holds up a hand to silence me.

Getting to her feet, she walks over to me and takes both of my hands in her own. “Sweetheart,” she starts, “when you’re used to living with a closed heart it’s not easy to open it. My protectiveness of you comes because I’ve felt pain, and loss, and anger at the hands of love,” she explains, “but I’ve never, not one single time, felt brave.” She then smiles at me, and I know good news is coming. “You are my inspiration, Gemima,” she tells me meaningfully. “I’m so proud of you for opening your heart, especially after your dick of an ex boyfriend,” she says, making me laugh out loud. “And Logan,” she releases my hands and moves to stand before him, “you might just single-handedly restore my faith in the concept of marriage. Look after her, always.”

“Always,” he promises her.

She looks at me once more. “You don’t need my blessing, but you have it anyway.”

I lunge at her, throwing my arms around her neck and hugging her tightly. I can’t explain why this moment feels like a moment of separation, but it does. We’re two fully grown adults for goodness’ sake, and yet it’s as though our parents are releasing us and sending us off to begin our journey, our own life.

“I love you so much,” I mutter to my mom.

“Oh, I love you too, darling. More than life itself,” she whispers. “And the two of you make a really beautiful couple,” she says observing us, after we break apart. “You quoting Gem’s father…well, that was something else,” she compliments Logan. She only uses that expression for things that have really, really impressed her.

“Have you kids given any thought to when you’ll make it official?” Rupert asks.

“This summer,” Logan nods happily. “Do you think you two could fly over again?” he asks his parents.

“The entire US Military couldn’t stop us,” Mary-Gene says, and I don’t doubt her.

“Will it be in Paris?” my moms asks.

I shrug and point at Logan. “He’s the ideas man,” I grin.

“It might be,” he says elusively, probably because I’m standing right next to him and he’s clearly not quite ready to share his plans with me yet.

A sudden idea coming to me, I ask Mary-Gene and Rupert, “What was your wedding song?”

“I’m a believer by Neil Diamond,” Mary-Gene smiles at the memory of it.

“It was the song that was playing the first time I saw her,” Rupert reveals, “and the words were so fitting that we used it for our wedding.”

Wait a second… “You fell in love at first sight?” I ask Rupert in disbelief. He nods and I immediately start giggling, saying, “It all makes sense now — it runs in the family! Is that going to be our song too?” I then ask Logan.

“Nope,” Logan shakes his head, grinning at me.

Rupert surveys me for a moment, before saying, “If I had to pick a song from him to you, it’d have to be—”