“It really is. I kept one of the kiss. You didn’t know I took the shot. It’s a great kiss, a great image. But this—this is us. Looking out, looking forward. Tonight, after the work, and the dealing with things that can’t be controlled, can’t be predicted—good or bad, happy or sad—and then the closet. I’d messed up my shirts, and your jacket was in there.”

“Oh, I must’ve put it there when—”

“It doesn’t matter. That’s the point. It doesn’t matter that my mother is my mother, or that things don’t always work exactly the way you thought they should. Moments matter. I know that better than anyone, but I never let it apply to me. Not to me. People matter, how they feel, how they connect, who they are alone and together. All that matters, no matter how quickly the moment passes. Maybe because it passes. What matters is you’re the blue butterfly.”

“I’m . . . what?”

“Come on, Professor. Dr. Maguire. You know all about metaphors and analogies and symbolism. You flew into my life, just landed in it unexpectedly. Maybe miraculously. And the picture formed. It just took me a while to see it.”

“I’m not . . . Oh, the picture. Wedding Day, the one you took when you were a girl.”

“Epiphanies. I had one then, and I had one tonight. I want this.” She took the picture from him. “I want . . . Here.” She looked around, chose a spot on one of his bookshelves. “I want that. It looks right there, doesn’t it?”

Something squeezed his heart. “Yes. It belongs there.”

“It doesn’t come with a guarantee. Why should it? It’s not a car or a computer. It’s life, and it’s messy, and it breaks down. It’s a promise, to try. I want to promise to try. Carter.”

She walked back to take his face in her hands. “Carter Maguire, I love you.”

As the fist around his heart clenched and released, he lowered his brow to hers. “Say it again, would you?”

“It’s the first time I’ve said it to anyone—this way, I mean. I don’t know why I thought it would be so hard. It’s not. I love you. I love who we are together. I love who I think we might be. I’ll screw up. So will you, you’re not perfect. We’ll hurt each other, and make each other laugh. We’ll make love and we’ll fight. I want us to promise to try not to let each other go. Trying’s all we can do.”

He met her lips with his. There was the promise, he thought. There was everything he’d waited for. There was Mackensie, and she loved him.

“I’m so glad you didn’t make the bed.”

Her laugh muffled against his lips before she tipped her head back. “That was one element of many that coalesced into a moment of absolute clarity. And I needed to tell you. I couldn’t wait. You’re the one who waits so well.”

“It was worth it. Look what I’ve got.”

“I want to tell you something. On Valentine’s Day—our Valentine’s Day—when it wasn’t a ring in the box, part of me was disappointed. That’s what scared me. I’m not scared now.”

His eyes focused on hers, and what he saw in them had his heart leaping. “I want a life with you, Mackensie.”

“I’m asking you to ask me.”

Gently, he brushed his lips to her forehead. “I love your face, and your hands.” He took them in his to press a kiss to her palms. “The way you look when you hold a camera, or hunch at the computer. I have dozens of images, pictures, and moments of you in my head. In my heart. I want a lifetime more. Marry me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.” He drew her to him, held on. “She said yes. Let’s get married in June.”

She pulled back. “June? We’re booked solid. That’s—” When he grinned, she narrowed her eyes. “You’re a funny guy, Carter.”

Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her once more. “I’ll take the first open date, if that suits you.”

“That’s a deal. Speaking for my partners, let me say Vows is thrilled to provide its services, and promises to give you a perfect wedding.”

“I’ve got you. It’s already perfect.”

She held him, strong and close, through the kiss. Then she laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh.

From the bookshelf their faces smiled out at her. Moments came and went, she thought. It was love that bound them together into a life.

She had love.