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A donation message pops up.

SirLOLLOT: TURN AROUND!

The chat is full of similar messages.

I glance at the in-game message box with a new message with his real name.

Jackson: Turn around, beautiful.

When I turn around, I’m shocked to find Jack sitting at his computer. We often game in the same room, talking aloud as we defeat bosses or simply enjoy being in our favorite world.

“How long have you been there?” I ask.

He smiles. “Long enough to be impressed. But when I saidturn around, I meant in the game.”

I laugh, turn back to my computer, and make my avatar for a one-eighty spin.

His goblin is standing there, holding a strange item I don’t recognize.

His avatar approaches me.

Jackson: Creating this game used to be the most valuable thing in my life. It was the only thing I cared about. The only thing that gave me pride. And I still love it, Dakota, but for a different reason now. I love it because it brought us together, because, without it, I never would’ve found you.

His goblin kneels, then fiddles with the item in his hand. It takes me too long to realize it’s a jewelry box.

Jackson: Will you marry me?

I gasp, tears filling my eyes.

“Dakota,” he says from behind me, voice husky and full of emotion.

I stand on wobbly legs, the world blurring with tears when I see him kneeling on the floor. He can be so tough sometimes, standing broad and strong next to me in public, punishing Elena Voss and the pervert trucker with the full extent of the law.

Then there are times like these, when he looks boyish, a version of him that exists only for me.

I stumble forward.

“My mother made this ring,” he says, getting choked up. “She didn’t have enough for a diamond, but the band, the details—it was all her.”

I stare down at it. It’s gorgeous. Swirling details along the sides, a Latin engraving in the white-gold band, the diamond is big, eye-catching, and sparkly.

“Will you marry me, Dakota?” he asks.

“Yes,” I whisper, voice breaking. Then I yell. Loud enough for him, my stream, and the whole world to hear. “Yes!”

He slips the ring onto my finger, then leaps to his feet and pulls me into his arms. Our kiss is tear-filled and messy and perfect. “What does it mean?” I murmur after, holding it to the light. “The engraving?”

“It’s Latin forloosen the reins. Not always, Dakota. Not even mostly. But sometimes, we just have to let go.”

“Only with you, Jack,” I say, moving in for another kiss, ignoring the stream even as, out of the corner of my eye, I can see a flood of hearts and party emojis in the chat. “Only ever with you.”

THE END