I took a few steps forward and then stopped short, my breath catching in my chest.
Not far from us, nestled among tall pine trees, stood a beautifully crafted wooden house overlooking a calm, glassy lake. Warm timber frames blended seamlessly with wide glass panels, reflecting the sky and water so completely that the house felt like part of the landscape itself.
The evening sun filtered through the trees, casting a soft golden glow across the lake and into the house. It wasn’t grand or imposing, just thoughtfully designed, open and serene. Wood brought warmth. Glass brought light. Together, they created a quiet harmony between indoors and out.
It reminded me of the small lakeside cottage I had rented three years ago, only this felt like its grown, more mature version.
Like a promise fulfilled.
“Whose house is this?” I whispered.
“I bought the land and started building it two years ago,” Ashton said. “It was just completed. Took longer than expected. I wanted everything to be perfect.”
Perfect.
The word landed heavier than it should have.
“Would you like to see more?” He gestured toward a short wooden staircase leading to the front door.
I took the first step, running my fingers lightly along the smooth timber railing. Up close, the craftsmanship was even more breathtaking. Every detail felt deliberate, intimate, almost personal.
I turned back to Ashton and froze.
He was kneeling.
“Ashton, what are you doing?”
“I want to do this the right way.” His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed everything he felt. “I want to ask for your forgiveness. For the hurt, the betrayal, the lack of trust. For the accusations I never should have made. For the eight years we lost.”
My chest tightened.
“I abandoned you,” he continued. “I let you carry our son alone. I know you struggled. I know you fought every day to give him a better life. I am begging you to forgive me, not because we share a son, but because your heart is willing. Because you want to give me a second chance to fix what I broke.”
I couldn’t speak. He was kneeling on the hard sand, looking up at me with nothing but hope in his eyes.
“Bailey,” he added quietly, “my knees are starting to hurt.”
A shaky laugh escaped me. “Oh. Right.” I swallowed. “You do realize I stopped holding a grudge a long time ago. We’re together. We’re trying. That already says a lot.”
“I need to hear it,” he said softly. “I need your words.”
“Of course.” I stepped closer. “I forgive you, Ashton. But I wasn’t blameless either. I fell apart too easily. I should have demanded you listen instead of walking away. I was wrong to hide the pregnancy from you.”
I reached for his hand.
“We both made mistakes. But you’re here now. You compromised. You stayed. Let’s forgive, forget, and move forward.” I smiled faintly. “And please get up. It’s incredibly awkward watching you kneel like this.”
“I’m not finished,” he said.
My heart skipped.
He shifted slightly, still on one knee, then reached into his pocket.
My breath caught.
And I gasped.
Ashton opened his hand, revealing a diamond ring resting in his palm. The stone caught the fading evening light, clear and luminous, set on a slender white gold band. Elegant and understated. Timeless rather than extravagant. Chosen with care, not show.
