Chapter 9: Vows and New Beginnings

That night, I slept late—not my fault, but Logan was too excited to sleep, insisted I say we were together before he could relax.

We talked on the phone until I lost consciousness—apparently unlimited minutes still exist—waking later to an earbud digging into my cheek.

Next morning, I woke up to find the call still going, nearly six hours. I called out.

On the other end, a sleepy “Mm” answered.

I laughed. “I fell asleep, why didn’t you hang up?”

Logan yawned. “Forgot.”

I’ve never dated, but heard plenty about how young guys chase girls from friends. So I said, “Logan Carter, you’re actually really good at this.”

Logan didn’t deny it, but still asked, “You don’t like it?”

I shook my head, then realized he couldn’t see. “That’s not what I mean, I was complimenting you.”

After chatting a bit, I checked the time, had to get up for work. Originally had a day off, but swapped shifts with a colleague—she’s getting engagement photos, younger than me by two years, already three months pregnant. She said she wanted photos before her belly showed, otherwise wouldn’t look good.

Just about to hang up, Logan called my name. “Autumn.”

“Mm?”

“I’m serious, please believe me. The age gap isn’t a problem. I don’t need you to carry me—I can carry my weight. I’m a man, strong enough to protect you, and I’ll work to be as excellent as you.”

Somehow, though I’m six years older, eaten more salt than he’s eaten rice, I’m still a woman, easily softened and moved, like now.

The softest part of my heart collapsed.

He came in.

I answered, “I know.”

Thirty is a hurdle, but also a new opportunity. Since I’m on the path, I’ll walk it—whether it’s a bright future or battered and bruised, I have to try.

I repeated this at our wedding.

After hearing it, Logan thought for a few seconds, took the mic from me, and gripped my hand tighter.

He didn’t look at the crowd, just at me.

Then slowly spoke—more like the Logan I knew now than the kid from before. “Age? Never the thing for us. What matters is I keep getting stronger, keep up with you, and make sure no one—including you—ever doubts I can make you happy. Your thirtieth was my new starting line. We’re on this road together, and I’m not letting go.” The room went quiet, then erupted—cheers, my mom ugly-crying into a napkin.

He said it so clear and proud, the whole room hushed. Even my mom had tears in her eyes. As we walked out, red maples framed the venue like her poem, and he reached up, laughing, to smooth my helmet hair out of habit. We stepped off the stage, into the wild adventure we'd both been waiting for.