It was almost too much. She had made her choice, and her reassurance was once he could accept. She'd made it for her friends, for the chance to help everyone that Jareth had ruined. She'd made it for the right reasons.
And she still chose him.
"Marry me, Sarah." Hell with waiting. She'd brought this back around to them, and Peter didn't think he could stand another minute of having her here without that promise of matrimony. And to shoot down the idea that he might get tired of her. The idea was too ridiculous to even laugh at.
He wasn't certain how they moved, or when, but he was kneeling on the ground next to the daybed, the box holding the ring in one hand, open and presented to her. "Please. Marry me."