I throw my carry-on into the overhead bin and drop down into my seat, looking around for a flight attendant. I need a drink, stat, if I’m going to make it through this insanely long flight.

Somehow, I hung around outside the gate long enough that I nearly missed the final boarding call. The plane is packed and ready go. I can’t fucking wait. I think.

And…I need that drink.

I see a brunette in uniform on the phone at the front of the plane and catch her eye, gesturing wildly.

She holds up her index finger and turns her back. Ugh. So much for first-class service.

There’s an elderly gentleman who looks remarkably like Hugh Hefner, complete with smoking jacket, in the seat next to me. He’s looking at me curiously, making me feel a little uncomfortable. You never know what you’re going to get in a flight companion, I guess.

Giving him a polite smile, I sit back in my seat, trying to get comfortable and close my eyes.

…then that fucking song starts playing.

What the ever-loving hell?

I swear to God, it really is haunting me. I have half a mind to stand up and look around the plane to tell whoever is playing it to put on some fucking headphones. No one wants to hear that shit.

I hunker down further in my seat and try to tune it out, but I swear to god, it gets even louder. Like it’s fucking mocking me.

“Emilia.”

The voice coming over the plane’s speakers makes me squeeze my eyes shut even tighter. Because evidently, I’m not handling the copious amounts of tequila very well. What a fucking mess of a day.

“Emilia.”

Jesus Christ, now I’m not only hearing our song, but Evan’s voice is invading my consciousness on some weird psychological level that I don’t understand. I think I need to break up with tequila, too, at this point. Maybe the flight attendant has some vodka?

I sit up straight and look for her again, but this time, the person standing at the front of the plane speaking into the intercom isn’t some flight attendant talking about flotation devices.

It’s Evan.

No. Fucking. Way.

And he’s got his phone held up to the intercom, playing that goddamn, stupid as fuck, perfectly beautiful song.

“Em…baby. I love you.”

God, does tequila have after-effects that make your eyes water thirty minutes after the fact?

“It’s you, Em. It’s always been you. It always will be you.”

Someone nearby lets out a godawful sound, like their heart is being ripped from their chest or something.

Oh, shit. That’s me.

Yeah, I’m crying like a baby right now.

Evan…is here?

But why? How? I don’t understand.

I look around frantically, realizing that everyone on the entire plane is looking at us, eyes wide, like we’re the best entertainment they’ve seen all day.

He starts walking slowly toward me, the intercom stretching as he pulls it behind him. I mean, I’m only two rows back, but apparently what he has to say, he wants the whole plane to hear.

“Baby, I love you, and I’d be the biggest fool in the entire world if I let you get on this plane and walk out of my life forever.”

I swallow hard, trying to breathe past the lump in my throat. I don’t know what’s happening here, but my heart is hammering in my chest.

“I’m sorry. For not realizing what you needed. And for not showing you that I can be that for you.”

He’s inches away from me now, and he drops the intercom and reaches up to cup my face. His thumb brushes over my cheek, wiping away the tears.

Our eyes are locked, all the love we have for each other on full display for the entire plane. I don’t know what he was thinking, coming here to tell me this on a plane, but it means everything to me that he wouldn’t let me leave without saying it.

“I love you, Em.”

I nod wordlessly, not trusting myself to speak. But words aren’t necessary. What we have transcends mere speech.

It’s timeless, primal, raw.

And pure.

My eyes drift closed as he leans in, his lips a breath from mine.

“Marry me.”

My breath gusts out, and my eyes fly open.

What?

Hang on. Am I dreaming here? Am I in some tequila-induced fever dream that looks an awful lot like an alternate reality?

Evan smiles.

No, he’s really here. I can feel the hard planes of his chest beneath my hands, the scratch of his stubble as he brushes his lips against mine and repeats, “Marry me.”

“Yes.”

One word. That's all. And my whole fucking world is turned upside down.

Evan crushes his mouth to mine, and we kiss with desperate passion like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I thought I’d seen it all, done it all with Evan.

I was dead wrong. There’s so much more ahead of us that I’m only just starting to see.

The entire plane erupts in cheers, and I laugh. I nearly forgot we had an audience.

“Stay right here.” Evan pulls away drops a quick kiss on my forehead.

I watch him in confusion as he goes to the front of the plane again, then reappears with…

…a priest.

I blink, shake my head, now wondering if I really am in that fever dream.

“Evan…” I cut my eyes back and forth between him and the priest. “What the fuck?”

He laughs. “I’ve got you here with nowhere to escape, and you’ve just said you’ll be my wife. You think I’m not going to seal the deal here and now?”

“You’re crazy.”

A wink. A grin. “You know it.”

I look at the flight attendant, certain she’s going to tell us we need to take our seats because it’s time for takeoff. What I’m not sure of is if Evan’s going along. I mean, he’s on the flight, which means he must have a ticket…

But the attendant is just smiling, watching us like she was in on the plan.

Fucking Evan.

I shake my head. “I love you.”

He gives me another kiss. “Let’s do this thing.”

Then, right there on the plane, the priest starts performing the ceremony. It’s crazy. But at least we aren’t hurting for witnesses.

It all goes by in a blur. I know I won’t remember any of it. But I don’t care.

All I can think about is how my heart—which so recently felt shattered beyond repair—has never been fuller. More complete.

What we’re doing is so totally insane—but it’s perfect for us. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Now I am his, in every sense of the word. And he is mine.

When we kiss, it’s like the whole world seems to shake. I’m quaking. Vibrating.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats and prepare for takeoff.”

Oh, well maybe it was just the jets. But I know one thing, I’ll be quaking and vibrating for days on end as soon as we get somewhere private. Speaking of…

“What do we do now? Get off the plane and go home?”

“Fuck no, baby. We’re going to Fiji.”

There’s no way in hell I’m making it all the way to Fiji without consummating this marriage. Marriage.

God. I’m fucking married. And I couldn’t be happier.

I give Evan a sly smile. “Meet me in the restroom after takeoff?”

Whoever said married life is boring? Our adventures are only just beginning.