JULES
ONE YEAR LATER
We’re at eighteen thousand feet and the noise of the engine drowns out any conversation. I’m an experienced skydiver now, nationally certified as an instructor and one hundred percent in love with Ben. We’re taking up a class of experienced skydivers who have asked us to film their maneuvers for their Valentine’s Day fall. We’re all wearing cameras on our helmets and Ben’s got a tether to make sure everyone stays in formation for the shot.
The lights inside the plane flash green and everyone piles out. I jump before Ben and we’re off.
The wind is exhilarating as it rushes over my face. The pull of gravity is like nothing else. I turn to watch the other jumpers, careful to keep my movements smooth, and my camera from making the footage jumpy.
We decided earlier that once the free fallers interlocked in formation, Ben would float under them and I’d stay above. We’d both film them as they turned and moved like synchronized swimmers through the air. I move my arms to buffet myself and I float up and away from the pack. But instead of locking formation, they all link arms and flip over, facing up at me. I go with it, making sure to film everything, while keeping track of our time. We have to open our chutes before too long, and they all know the signal.
Then, a gap appears in the falling line and Ben is there, wearing a tux. He’s stripped off his flight suit somehow and he’s linked arms with the line of men. I realize with a jolt that Evan’s one of the jumpers, and so is Pete, and Matthew and Chip, and Shelly, and Lucas. Everyone is floating on their backs, watching me. Then one by one, they open the front of their jumpsuits, revealing letters on their chests.
M. A. R. R. Y. ME. J?
Ben’s got the J? on his chest and I wonder how in the world he managed to do this—sneak our friends on the plane and have them all dressed for this—without me knowing at all.
Ben’s flicked his arm out and he’s tapping his watch. I blink back tears as they drip onto my goggles and I nod to my love. Yes. Yes. Yes.
Everyone pumps their arms and high fives as Ben floats up to me, pressing his helmet into mine. He’s smiling so big he looks like a little kid.
A short beep sounds in my earpiece. Ben gives me a thumbs up and pushes off and I deploy my parachute.
When I touch down, everyone is waiting and cheering. Jessie is there, and Lindsay. They rush over and give me a huge hug. Swooper is there, and he charges me, knocking me down.
“It’s like he knows,” I say, wiping tears from my eyes.
Shelly pulls me to my feet and hands me a glass of champagne as Ben touches down a few feet away, his parachute landing behind him like a crimson cape.
He walks over to me and gets down on one knee, a blue velvet box in his hand. He fumbles for a second with the box and when he finally gets it open he’s got tears in his eyes too.
“Julianne Wilson, I love you more than the clear blue sky. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
I sit on his knee and put my arms around his neck, rubbing my nose against his and sniffling. “Benjamin Butler, the honor would be mine. All mine.”
He slips the ring on my finger and Swooper’s there, wiping away our happy tears with slobbery licks.
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