Ford spun away with a hundred last-minute things to do, but he stopped at the door and circled back to me. "You came all the way to my office just to tell me you love me?"
"Yes. I didn't say it this morning, and I didn't know why."
He stopped, and his face sobered. "Why didn't you?"
I reached up and brushed a hand over his cheek. The caress drew the scent of his aftershave to my senses, and I was dizzy with happiness. "I've never been in love before," I confessed.
Ford laughed and scooped me back into his arms. "Then I've never been in love before either because I've never felt like this before."
"Like what?" I asked with a challenge in my eyes.
This time, it didn't matter that the walls were glass. When our lips met it felt like time stood still. Outside, the office worked at a frantic pace, but for just a moment longer, there was only Ford and I in the world.
I thought of Lexi and her engagement ring, Jasmine and her new romance, and my father finally with his dream artist. The world slowly came back, but I welcomed each part of it. The people around us had seen it from the very beginning, and Ford and I had just caught up. It felt good to finally know what everyone had realized long before us.
"Please wait right here. Jackson didn't give you any homework, did he?" Ford asked.
"Just a few new comments, but nothing I have to do this weekend." I waved the short story pages.
Ford frowned at all the red marks. "I thought he liked it."
I smiled. "Professor Rumsfeld gives great feedback. And my story was very well received in class."
"So? Is it the one?" Ford asked.
It felt like sunlight spreading across my chest. Everything felt right. "Yes, I think it's the one."
Ford kissed me again. "I'm so proud of you, Clarity. You're going to do it, right?"
"Yes, I'm entering the contest. There's no predicting if the judges will like it but—"
"But if you win, you'll be on your way to getting published at the same time as you graduate from Landsman College." Ford grinned and squeezed both my hands. "That's a reason to celebrate if I ever heard one."
"I've heard one better," I said.
Ford pulled my hands to his lips. "Tell me again."
"I love you, and you love me. That's the only reason I want to celebrate."
An alarm clock sounded on the floor, and all the newspaper staff members jumped up from their desk. A big monitor on the far wall flickered to life, and the IT staff fluttered around getting the last-minute codes in place.
Ford looked from the newspaper floor, poised to publish, and then back to me.
"Go on; I don't mind waiting," I said.
"Put that in the top drawer of my desk. It locks, and it will still be here when we get back."
"Get back?" I asked.
"Sorry, I have to go take care of this," Ford slipped onto the floor and took care of the final details before he could publish the new online edition of The Mirror.
I took a seat at his desk and unlocked the drawer he suggested. Once my short story was inside, I sat back and took a moment to breathe. It was impossible to not want everything all at once. Then I thought about how far we'd come. From strangers at my father's party, to a student and professor, to journalists fighting against a well-funded enemy.
"What's that look?" Ford asked when he returned.
"Life just keeps getting better and better with you," I said.
Ford sat on the corner of the desk and tapped the locked drawer. "Listen, Clarity, I understand if you want to spend the weekend working on your short story. It's a huge deal. When you win the contest, you'll have the chance to find an agent or a publisher."