In no particular order, she makes sure she has:
-a photo of him at the cabin
She backs out of the gravel driveway, not bothering to look for traffic. It is late, and he is waiting. On the radio, CentroMatic. Quiet at first until she realizes that the song is her new favorite. Volume up. 10 miles more.
At the little church he waits… just past the cabin, just past midnight. Nothing at all in his pocket, anticipation in his heart. Headlights loop overhead, reflected off the grove of firs. Seconds later her car slows.
Smiles, almost too wide, on both sides of the glass.
“It IS him,” she thinks, sliding to the passenger seat as he opens the driver’s door and takes the wheel.
He knows that this is the point of no return, even as he knows that this is exactly what he had waited for. They clasp hands, and he drives away left-armed.
Moonrise and 2 lanes of bending asphalt. Miles tick by. She asks, “So, am I what you bargained for?”
“Oh yes,” he replies. “Oh yes.”