“I didn’t know if I would ever have this,” she whispers. “Any of this.”
“You have it,” I answer, lowering my forehead to hers once more. “All of it.”
Her eyes fall closed for a moment, and a quiet exhale leaves her chest, a soft release of tension and disbelief. When she opens her eyes again, I see something new in them. Acceptance, hope, and trust that no longer need to test every boundary before it steps forward.
This is where I begin.
I slide my hand to her waist, my fingers resting just above the gentle curve that holds our child. The warmth beneath my palm centers me with a force nothing else ever has. She inhales softly, her body leaning instinctively toward the touch, and the meaning of this moment sharpens in my chest. Everything turns still and narrows to her.
“I want to give you something,” I tell her quietly.
She lifts her head slightly, searching my face with curiosity. Her fingers brush the collar of my shirt, as if she can sense there is more I am holding back.
The ring box presses lightly against my hip through the denim of my jeans. I have carried it all day, waiting for the right moment and for everything around us to fall into place. This is that moment.
I slip my hand into the pocket. The velvet box fits perfectly into my palm, cool, small, and impossibly important. My pulse climbs as I draw it out, not because of nerves, but because I understand the magnitude of what I am placing in her hands and what I am asking her to share with me for the rest of our lives.
Her eyes widen as the black box absorbs the last streaks of sunlight. She covers her mouth with her fingers, emotion sweeping across her face in a wave so unguarded it pierces through me.
“Luka,” she breathes, her voice carrying wonder and disbelief.
I tighten my grip on the box, taking in the sight of her, the way her lashes glisten from the tears she has not yet wiped away, the way her lips tremble with a softness that feels like a gift.
I move slowly, lowering to one knee on the concrete slab that will one day become her café’s foundation again. The contact of my knee against the ground echoes through my body with a certainty that calms my breath. Sage presses her hand to her chest as if she can hold her heart in place. Vega lifts his head, watching us intently as if he understands that this moment belongs to the three of us.
The breeze moves her hair across her cheek. She tucks it behind her ear with a trembling hand, her eyes locked on mine with a depth of emotion that makes everything else fade away.
I open the ring box.
The flawless round diamond reflects the warm light, framed by filigree that curves around the band in delicate, vintage patterns. Tiny diamonds nestle along the sides, not ostentatious, but crafted with care, each detail chosen because it reminded me of her. Grace woven into strength. Intricacy balanced with simplicity. Beauty shaped by intention rather than extravagance.
Her breath breaks in her throat, her fingers quivering near her lips as she stares at the ring as if she is afraid to blink and lose it.
“Sage.” My voice comes low from the emotion tightening every word. “When Vega and I found you on the sidewalk that first morning, I did not understand that my life had already begun to change. I thought you were trouble I could set aside once I learned your name and your story. Instead, you became the beginning of a life I never believed I could have.”
Tears gather in her eyes again, spilling over as she lowers her hand from her mouth and presses it to her heart.
“You challenged me,” I continue, rising slightly so she can see my face clearly. “Not with shouting or accusations, but with the way you look at the world, and the way you hold on to hope even when everything around you breaks. You pulled me toward a future I did not think existed for a man like me.”
Her chin trembles. Her eyes shine with so much feeling that it loosens a truth buried deep inside me.
“You have given me a home in ways no building ever could,” I tell her, my thumb brushing the edge of the ring box. “You gave me a chance to protect something I love instead of something I fear losing. You gave me a child, and you gave me yourself.”
Sage’s knees buckle slightly, and I reach out with my free hand, sliding my palm along her hip to support her. She leans into the touch instinctively, her breath faltering in a way that feels like a vow made without words.
“I want to build a life with you,” I murmur. “A life that belongs to us and no one else. A life where our child grows knowing their mother is the bravest woman I have ever met.”
Her tears fall freely now, tracing warm paths down her cheeks. Her lips shake as she tries to speak, but her voice escapes her, carried away by emotion.
I lift the ring, letting the band shine in the fading sunlight. “Sage Bellamy,” I ask, my voice thickening with the depth of what I feel for her, “will you marry me?”
Her breath leaves her in a soft rush, almost a sound of disbelief breaking open inside her in the most profound way. She pressesboth hands to her face, her shoulders lifting with a shaky inhale. Tears slide through her fingers. She lowers her hands slowly, revealing blue eyes so full of emotion that my breath stumbles in response.
“Yes,” she whispers, then shakes her head quickly as if the word is too small. “Yes, Luka. Of course, yes.”
Relief breaks through the tension in my chest, expanding through my ribs with a force that nearly knocks the breath from my lungs. I rise from my knee just enough so I can take her left hand in mine.
Her fingers flutter when they meet mine. I lift the ring from its velvet cradle, the metal cool between my fingers. The filigree along the band glints softly, and the flawless diamond reflects the beams framing her future café, the mountains beyond, and Sage herself.
