I let out a low chuckle, tightening my arm around her. “Damn right. Though I gotta admit knowing you used to fantasize about other men, even the fictional kind, kinda makes me jealous.” I glance down at the ring on her finger and smile. “But knowing I’m all you want,” I lift her hand and kiss her knuckles, “makes me feel like the luckiest bastard alive.”
Brushing my thumb over her ring finger, my thoughts drift back to a few weeks ago when I walked into the jewelry store, knowing I wouldn’t be at peace until I found the ring that screamed she’smine. I must’ve gone through dozens of options, but nothing felt right until I saw this one. Simple and elegant. Just like her.
But the ring wasn’t all I had in mind. I had plans. An elaborate candlelight dinner, violinists playing in the background… hell, I even considered one of those over-the-top skywriting proposals. But all of it flew out the window the moment Sunita Aunty nudged me to propose to Nisha right in front of her. And when I caught that challenging little twinkle in Nisha’s eyes, I knew that was my moment.
Not that I regret it. With her beside me and Aunty’s blessing, the moment felt perfect. Still, a part of me wonders if I should’ve done it better. More worthy of her.
“I missed the flowers and the over-the-top dinner,” I whisper against her hair.
She lifts her head immediately, her eyes locking with mine. “It was perfect. Trust me, no flowers, no fancy dinner could come close tothisproposal.”
“You really have no idea what you do to me,” I murmur, my eyes roaming over her. She looks adorable in that oversized sweatshirt that’s practically swallowing her whole. The sleeves fall past her hands, the neckline slides off one shoulder, and somehow, she still manages to make it look like the most beautiful outfit in the world.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Always,” I reply, caressing her cheek.
She swallows, hesitating for a second before her voice breaks. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
My brows pull together at the sheer stupidity of that question. Before I can even open my mouth to ask what the hell that’s about, she keeps going.
“I mean, I know we love each other. I don’t doubt that, not even for a second.” Her voice wavers just a little, like she’s trying to steady something inside her. “But marriage is huge, Sidharth. It’s a lifelong commitment. Are you really ready for all of that with me?”
I cup her face, making sure her eyes don’t falter for even a second when I speak.
“You think I’d put that ring on your finger if I wasn’t sure?” I ask softly. “I know marriage is huge. It’s forever. And that’s exactly what I want with you.” My voice is quiet, but there’s no mistaking the conviction in it. “I’ve spent most of my career tackling the deadliest cases. But nothing, and I mean nothing, has ever scared me as much as the thought of losing you. That’s how I know this is what I want. That’s how I know I’m ready.” Her eyes begin to glisten, but I press on. “Do I know what marriage fully entails? Hell no. But I do know that I want to wake up every morning with you beside me. I want to fight oversilly things like what show to binge, and then hold you tight at night. And one day, I want to have tiny versions of you running around, driving us both crazy. I want to grow old with you, sweetheart.”
She lets out a watery laugh at that, a sound that’s half sob, half joy.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“And I love you more,” I reply, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She smiles and drops her head back onto my chest, and my thumb moves in slow, lazy strokes against her back. Her breathing begins to even out soon after, and her grip on my shirt loosens slightly. She’s asleep now, peacefully snuggled against me.
I know I should carry her inside, tuck her into bed, and head home to catch a few hours of sleep before another round of interrogations tomorrow. But I don’t. Instead, I close my eyes, rest my cheek against her head, and hold her tighter.
In this moment, with her wrapped around me like this, it’s the only kind of peace I’ve ever known.
“Thank you,” I whisper to the stars, to fate, to God, for finally taking pity on me. “Thank you for this beautiful gift in my arms.”
???
“You finally put the ring on her finger?” Viraj asks, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as we step into the small, half-lit coffee shop near the station. The place smells like burnt espresso and old furniture polish—the kind of place only cops could love. It’s nothing fancy. Just worn-out booths, dim lights, and the soft whir of a tired ceiling fan overhead.
I turn my head and narrow my eyes at him. “You knew I would.”
He chuckles, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “I still can’t believe you went full-on romantic hero mode, carrying that ring around in your pocket like some lovesick idiot.”
I curse under my breath. I don’t even know why I told the fucker I bought the ring, let alone admitted I’d been carrying it with me everywhere. Especially knowing he’d hold it over my head for the rest of my life.
“Are you done laughing about it?” I mutter, sliding into the booth.
Viraj grins as he drops into the seat opposite me, tossing his jacket and bag beside him.
“Not even close.” He leans back, eyeing me with that same annoying smirk. “Just let me enjoy the fact that the great Sidharth Khurana turned out to be a softie after all.”
“You wish.” I shoot him a look, then glance towards the young waiter hovering nearby. “Two black coffees. Extra strong.”
