The lump in her throat pressed harder.
He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. The lights, the music, the softness in his eyes—it was too much.
“What I can change”—he withdrew enough to look into her eyes—“is the future.”
And then he dropped to one knee.
Her hands flew to her mouth as he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket.
“Nana helped me pick it out,” he said, flipping the box open. “Which is how I know it’s perfect for you.”
The ring shimmered under the spotlight—simple, elegant, exactly her.
“Raisa Winslow,” he said, his voice steady and reverent, “marry me?”
For a moment, the air left her lungs. The lights, the music, the man in front of her—everything inside her tilted and fell into place. Emotion flooded her chest in one unstoppable wave.
“Yes,” she whispered. Then louder, steadier. “Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes.”
Quinten surged to his feet just in time to catch her, as she threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking them both off balance. Their mouths met halfway, and the kiss that followed hit her like a jolt—hungry, breath-stealing, real. Her fingers curled into his jacket, needing the press of him, the solid warmth, the way his hand gripped her waist like he wasn’t letting go.
She kissed him harder. Because how else could she say what she felt? That she couldn’t picture a life without him. That she didn’t want to.
The world narrowed to his lips, his scent, the faint rasp of stubble against her cheek. Music still played somewhere behind her, but it felt far away. All she could feel was the heat pooling low in her belly and the dizzying rush of this is mine, finally mine.
When they broke apart, she was breathless, blinking up at him with a shaky grin. Then she turned, heart thudding, toward the bleachers.
Nana sat there like a smug little queen, with her hands folded over her handbag and a knowing gleam in her eye.
Raisa let out a helpless laugh and reached back to grab Quinten’s hand. “Come on,” she said, tugging him with her. “Let’s include her in this moment.”
Nana rose from the bleachers with surprising grace and held out her arms to them as they approached. She didn’t speak, just pulled them both into a hug that spoke volumes.
The three of them shared a hug for a long moment, and when they broke apart, Nana dabbed at her eyes with her embroidered handkerchief before declaring it was time to celebrate properly.
Quinten offered her his arm like a gentleman, and on his other side Raisa slipped her hand into his as they walked out into the bright late-morning sun. The school doors closed behind them, shutting out the weight of the past and letting something lighter settle in its place. As they drove through town, storefronts busy and sidewalks thawing, Raisa leaned her head against Quinten’s shoulder and let herself believe, really believe, that this new beginning was hers.
They found an open diner and tucked into a booth with pancakes, eggs, and strong coffee. Raisa couldn’t stop smiling. Every time she glanced at Quinten’s ring on her finger, her heart fluttered.
Afterward, while Quinten was paying the bill, Nana leaned in with a sly smile. “I think I’ll go home now. Let these old bonesrest... and give you two time to start working on those great-grandbabies.”
Raisa’s cheeks flamed searing hot. Her hand instinctively drifted to her belly.
She hadn’t told anyone. Not yet. She wasn’t even sure. But if Nana’s wish came true, it might be more than a sweet joke—it might be real in less than nine months.
After they helped Nana into the car, Raisa leaned close to Quinten and murmured, “Can we stop by the pharmacy on the way back?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”
She smiled—wide and secret and impossibly full of love. “Hopefully not.”
And as they drove off into the soft morning light, Raisa placed a hand over her belly and got a glint from the ring. Whether she was pregnant now or not, there would be love and family in her future.
THE END
