She stares down at the new compass like it’s glowing. Mine isn’t flashy or expensive. But it’s got weight. Story. Meaning.
Fighting the crack in my voice, I say, “You shouldn’t have to look for those two things alone anymore.”
Her fingertips brush the edge of the compass like it’s fragile, and precious. She doesn’t say anything for a long moment.
Doesn’t need to. Her silence says it all.
Finally, she whispers, “You’re ridiculously sweet.”
I smile, not the cocky kind I used to hide behind. Now it’s soft. Real.
“Yeah,” I say. “You do that to me.” And that’s the truest thing I’ve ever said.
Slowly, she lifts the compass out of the box and opens it. Her jaw drops. My pulse spikes.
Inside, where the needle should be, nestled in the center—is the ring.
The gold band catches the firelight, delicate but strong, etched with tiny waves along the sides, subtle as a secret.
At the center, a vintage-style bezel holds a stunning emerald, deep green with flecks of gold that glow when she tilts it toward the tree lights.
North and Anchor.The sea and the sky. Earth and compass.
Tiny diamonds flank it like distant stars. Not about the carats. Not about the cost.
It’s abouther.
About the way she once sat by the ocean, grief threading her voice, and told me you always need a North and an Anchor. How she’s spent her life carrying heartbreak like it was stitched into her skin, and still found ways to stay soft. And the fact that I fell for her without even trying.
That Iseeher. Still. Always.
And tucked just beneath the stone, engraved in the curve of the setting?—
Anchor Me.
Not "Marry Me."
Because even when she drifts, even when the world tilts sideways, she’ll never be alone again.
She’ll always have me.
Her hand flies to her mouth the moment it registers.
I take a breath. Not nervous. Not scared.
Sure.
Picking up the compass, I cradle it between us and drop to one knee.
“You once told me,” I begin, voice low, “that North isn’t just a direction. It’s a feeling. It’s the thing that keeps pulling you forward, no matter how lost you get.”
Her eyes shine, tears brimming at the edges, her hand still pressed to her lips.
“I’ve been lost before. Then I met you. And suddenly... I wasn’t.”
A shaky laugh slips from her lips, but she doesn’t interrupt.
I take her hand, thumb brushing slow circles across her knuckles.“This is your fault,” I tease, smiling against the tightness in my chest. “You made me believe in things I never thought I could. You made me believe inus.”
