Hats flew into the air. I never understood that tradition. It took at least five pins to get the damn hat to stay on my head, and now I was just supposed to toss it up into the air like it hadn't taken me all morning to figure it the fuck out?

Graduation hats were not actually meant to be on heads. I was convinced of that.

The letters H for Hadaway and L for Lenertz were just far enough away from each other that I got to spend my college graduation ceremony looking at the back of Bren's head. He was one row in front of me and three seats to the right. He had sat stoically, unmoving.

Bren hadn't talked about it much, but I knew this day meant a lot to him. Of course, it meant a lot to all of us. But Bren's fight with school went far beyond the struggles I had to finish up term papers and study for exams.

Today, though, not only was Bren Hadaway graduating with his Bachelor of Science in Sociology, he had also already gained admission to attend graduate school in San Jose. He wanted to be a high school counselor, and he was going to be damn good at it.

He liked to tell me that he wouldn't be here without me. And I did push his stubborn ass not to give up on more than one occasion. But I liked to tell him that I wouldn't even be alive without him.

God, Bren's nerves had been running wild for a few weeks now. Finals week nearly pushed him to the brink. And then, when he could finally relax about actually passing his classes, we had to get ready for graduation.

I'd been sick, too, which I knew only caused Bren more stress.

I debated telling him the truth. But I wasn't sure what his reaction would be. I didn't know if it would create even more anxiety for him during an already crazy time. So I kept it to myself. Even though it was killing me.

Excitement, anxiety, love—it all created an odd sort of stomach ache. Well, and the other thing. That caused a stomach ache, too.

Today. Today after the ceremony, I promised myself that I'd tell him.

Which was...now.

Shit, it was now.

Bren, all smiles and handsome everything, strode toward me purposefully. Within seconds, he'd reached me. His outstretched arms wound around my midsection before lifting me in the air. He spun me in a circle, inviting nausea back into my life. The same nausea that I'd been trying to swallow down throughout the entire ceremony.

He seemed to notice as soon as I touched the ground again.

"What's wrong?"

People streamed around us, most of them wearing blue-colored gowns and looking for their family and friends. Or their stupid hat.

Chaos flowed, and it was overwhelming, making me want to throw up the bagel I'd eaten this morning. But Bren was here. And he would ground me.

I met his gaze with a smile. "Nothing, of course. We did it! You did it! I'm so proud of you, baby."

I threw my arms up around his neck, but Bren watched me carefully. Quizzically. He flashed me a funny little frown.

I shifted on my feet, knowing that now was the time. Now was the time that I needed to tell him. Because soon Caroline would be walking up to us, and my parents, and Nessa and—

Alright, maybe it wasn't a good time. In fact, perhaps it was a terrible time. It was probably the worst possible time of all, right before—

"Madeline," Bren cut in. His tone was a bit stern, as if the full name hadn't been clue enough that he wanted my attention. It only came out when he was trying to make a point. Sometimes it was a scolding. Or sometimes it was just a sign that he was really fucking turned on. Usually, he was really fucking turned on.

That wasn't the case here, though.

Bren's eyebrows furrowed together as he watched me. Intensity leaked into his brown eyes.

"What's wrong?" he repeated.

"Nothing," I repeated, letting my arms fall back down to my sides.

"Baby, I know you're ly—"

"I'm pregnant," I blurted.

Goddamn it, that wasn't how I was going to say it.

"You're pregnant," he repeated, dazed. He blinked. Once. Twice. His mouth opened. And then closed. And then opened. "So the stomach flu the past few weeks was...."

"Morning sickness," I finished for him quietly.

His mouth gaped open even further. "I—"

"Bren—"

"How?"

"The usual way. I mean, we do have a lot of sex."

"But—"

"Birth control isn't one hundred percent effective, Bren. Look, I'm so so—"

"God, don't. Don't you dare apologize." He shook his head, silencing me. His eyes weren't meeting mine, though. Instead, he stared down my body as if trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. 

He couldn't see much, though. So then Bren lifted a hand, slowly unzipping my graduation gown. It hung open, and his gaze traveled over my white dress beneath, which hugged my curves and showed off the tiniest little bump.

In awe, Bren placed a tentative hand on my stomach. He touched me like I was suddenly breakable.

"How did I not realize?" He looked up at me. Finally. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "That's my child?" he asked softly. "Our child?"

"That's our child," I whispered, melting at his reaction. Hopefully a brown-haired, brown-eyed child.

"Oh my god, Madie. I—"He shook his head before dropping abruptly down onto both knees. He rested his head against my stomach for a moment, and my heart almost gave out. Right then and there, in the middle of a crowded stadium. But Bren pulled away after only a few seconds, simultaneously grabbing my hips in both hands and forcing me to take a step back.

Apparently, he needed more room for what he was about to do.

Which was to pop one knee up and fish in his pocket for something.

And it should have hit me sooner, quicker. But it still took me until Bren started speaking with a sparkling diamond ring between his two fingers that I got it.

Oh my god.

"I was going to wait until later today, but now is just as good a time as ever," he said, blinking up at me. The sun hit the side of his face, bringing out hazel flecks in his eyes. They glowed.

"Bren..." My voice wobbled, and all I wanted was to scream yes. But he seemed determined, and I didn't want to interrupt.

"Madie," he said, smiling. It was sweet and tender and everything that Bren was to me. "I'm one of the lucky ones, baby. And it's because I met you."

I shook my head, tears in my eyes. Because even without me—

"No, it's true," he said, cutting off my thoughts. "I am so goddamn lucky, and I love you so fucking much. I want you forever. Let me take care of you forever. Let me take care of our child. Let me keep you both safe. And loved and happy. Let me marry you, Madeline Rose Lenertz."

My heart—this man had my whole heart.

"Yes," I breathed.

"Yes?" Bren repeated, eyes growing wide. Like he couldn't believe it. Did he actually think I wouldn't have said yes?

"Yes!" I squealed louder this time, just in case he'd repeated it because he hadn't heard me clearly the first time.

"Oh my god," I think Bren murmured, but I wasn't quite sure. Because I'd already launched myself down at him, kissing him without a care for the thousands of people surrounding us on the Oakland State football field.

I flattened my boy to the ground, and he caught my face with his free hand, tilting it to the side so he could have better access, so he could kiss me deeper.

"I love you, Bren," I murmured into his mouth, and he moaned in satisfaction before pulling back. He rested his forehead against mine and grabbed my hand, bringing it between us.

"I need you to put this on," he said gruffly and slid the engagement ring on my finger.

It fit perfectly.

But I didn't get a chance to admire it because Bren had swooped in to kiss me again. His hand drifted to my stomach, and he rested his palm against it, cradling and protecting.

"Jesus Christ, I should be surprised that you guys are making out on the ground in front of literally the whole school on graduation day, but I'm really not at this point."

Bren broke from my lips with a laugh and a huge smile before staring up at Beau. Our friend shook his head, exasperated. "I get it. You're happy. Now can you pick your ass off the ground? It's my turn for a hug."

Bren didn't get up. Instead, he blurted—just like I had.

"Madie's pregnant," he said, smiling wider than I'd ever seen. And then, while Beau was gaping at him, shock apparent on his face, Bren got to his feet. "It's mine," Bren added.

"No fucking shit, it's yours," Beau said with a laugh. Now that he'd recovered, a huge grin had appeared.

"I know—it's just—"

Bren shook his head, and Beau attacked him with a hug while he was speechless. "Congratulations, man!"

After releasing Bren, Beau turned to look down at me. I was still sitting on the ground, watching the exchange between the two boys with my heart in my throat. All nausea from earlier had disappeared.

Beau closed the distance between us, bent down, and scooped me up in his arms. "Congrats, lil lady," he breathed in my ear while squeezing me.

But the next thing I knew, two hands were firmly pulling me away from Beau.

"Can you stop manhandling my pregnant fiance?" Bren asked. He chuckled, but it barely masked the serious note in his voice. His arm snaked its way around my middle before he drew me tighter to his chest. And I had no doubt in my mind that for the next nine months, this was how Bren was going to be.

Good thing it felt just right.

"Fiance?" Caroline's voice cut in, and at the same time, Beau said the exact same thing. She strolled up, hand in hand with this new guy she was seeing—a very handsome model that she met during a photoshoot. "Oh my god, I honestly didn't think you'd get the nerve, Bren," she exclaimed.

"Well, did you hear the other part of what I just said?" Bren asked, his voice all husky and breathy. He pressed a light kiss to the top of my head.

Kisses raining down on me were my favorite thing. I was lucky enough that it happened a lot. And it was going to keep happening. Because I was going to marry him. I was going to marry Bren.

Happy tears welled along my bottom lashes, and I bit my lip.

I was going to be loved and feel loved for the rest of my life.

Knowing that—nothing beat it.

I watched as Caroline mouthed the words beneath her breath.

Can you stop manhandling my pregnant—

And then Caroline shrieked. And then Nessa walked up, and she shrieked, too. And then we were all shrieking until Bren finally tugged me away, telling everyone—my parents included—that they would see us later. Our group had reserved a few tables for dinner at a restaurant in San Francisco. But right now, he wanted me alone.

Alone with Bren sounded nice.

Actually, that was an understatement.

He tucked me into his car, making sure that my dress and gown were secured before lowering the top of his Mustang and taking off. The sun was hot on my cheeks, but the air offset the heat. Heavy winds whipped my hair around. It slapped against my cheeks, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything right now.

He drove. I rode. We were hand in hand. I didn't say anything or question what we were doing. Bren seemed to have a plan. And I trusted him.

We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, and I tipped my head back, watching the arches pass by overhead. We drove through the clouds. And I floated like I was one of them.

Bren kept driving, turning off the interstate onto a winding road. He followed it all the way to the very top before finally parking in an abandoned lot. Taking my hand, he led me out onto an overlook. Its wooden boards jutted over a cliff, a narrow path atop the ocean—a vast, blue sea. With depths I thought I finally understood.

"This is where I was going to take you," he said eventually. "To propose. And I just still wanted to take you here."

"It's beautiful," I said, looking out over the ocean. The waves were wild today. Ruggedly beautiful.

"Yeah," Bren agreed, but I knew he was doing that thing where he was looking at me and not at the water. So I spun around, and sure enough, there he was. Watching me with warm eyes.

That was the thing about Bren Hadaway—how I'd known that I could trust him all those years ago. How I've continued to know that.

Bren wasn't cold. He never treated me with the coldness that he'd grown up with. Never once—not even in moments of anger or frustration. Or sadness.

Withdrawn, maybe. Or hesitant. Often hesitant.

But never cold.

Bren was warm. He was warmth itself. His eyes shone with heat, and his smile brightened my mood. Occasionally a dimple would indent on one side, and I'd melt from the handsome man before me.

But I didn't fall in love with Bren because he looked good. I fell in love with Bren because he made me feel good.

He made me feel warm, fiery, hot.

And as soon as I turned around, Bren kissed me. He kissed me long and hard. He kissed me until my air ran out. Until my fingers trembled against his chest, and my knees threatened to give out.

Bren knew. He carried me back to the car, placing kisses wherever he could. He set me down in the seat before getting in and putting the top back up on the convertible. And then he leaned over, slowly letting his hands drift beneath my dress, watching me intently the entire time.

I trembled as his touch ghosted my skin.

I needed him.

"Thank you for saying yes," he whispered.

"Thank you for asking," I whispered back.

"For a long time, I didn't know life could be like this, Madie."

"Like what?"

"So fucking good."

"Yes."

The word came out as a whimper because I was distracted by what he was doing with his hand.

"You made me so happy today," Bren continued.

"You make me happy every day, Bren."

And with that, Bren kissed me again. He kissed me so hard that I barely even realized when he pulled me over onto his lap.

I did realize when he peeled off my dress, though, stripping it over my head.

And so then I peeled off his white dress shirt.

And we ended up being very late for dinner.

But damn, were we ever happy.

So very happy.

🤍

i told you i believe in happy endings!

Bren's POV will probably be up tomorrow.
it is quite a bit shorter.

xoxo

ps urthebest