He looks up at me fully. “And then it dawned on me…nothing out there could ever hold a candle to this.” He lifts my hands and threads his fingers through mine. “Being here with you feels truer than anything I could have staged.”
A lump rises in my throat. I remember that first proposal—how stunned I was, how badly timed it felt. But now, hearing what it meant to him, how long he’s carried that moment with him…something inside me twists and blooms at the same time. He has been waiting. Hoping. Holding the question like a promise he never stopped believing in.
“Because when I’m like this, Olivia—on both knees in front of you—I don’t have to pretend to be anything other than what I am.” His voice thickens, the confession unguarded. “A man whois deeply and hopelessly in love with you. And everything I have, everything I am, is yours.”
It lands with the weight of something lived, not rehearsed. It hits me squarely, forcing my breathing into a tremble.
“From the first moment I saw you,” he continues, “I felt a pull. I didn’t know your name. I didn’t know anything about you.” His mouth curves gently. “But I felt it anyway. A tug in my chest strong enough to make me stop. And I stayed.” His voice softens at the memory. “Every time I saw you again, I stayed longer. Until I had no choice but to meet you. And when I did…you were even more extraordinary than I could have ever imagined.” His eyes trace my face. “You opened the door just an inch—and I was gone.”
Emotion surges through me so quickly it’s dizzying. I’ve known the broad strokes of this story—how long he’d wanted me, how carefully he orchestrated our path—but hearing it with him on both knees before me is floors me.
“I’ve spent every day since learning who I am in your orbit,” he says. “And the truth is simple. I am at my best when I’m yours.” He lifts my hands and presses a slow kiss to each knuckle. “And I can be good for you, Olivia. I can lift you. Support you. Clear every path so you don’t have to carry anything alone.” A breath. “You deserve someone who chooses you first. Someone who builds his world around the privilege of standing beside you.” His gaze finds mine. “I want that honor. I am that man.”
My heart clenches, hard enough to hurt. His sincerity, his vulnerability, the depth of his devotion—it overwhelms me, but in the best possible way. It feels like standing in front of something immense and true.
Nathaniel releases one of my hands only long enough to reach into his pocket. He pulls out a small velvet box that is heavy with meaning. My breath stutters. The sight of it sendsa jolt through me. Disbelief, longing, joy—all tangled into one trembling surge.
“Olivia Marie Bennett, loving you and being loved by you has been the most profound experience of my life,” he says, opening the box. Inside rests a brilliant emerald-cut ruby, flanked by diamonds, set in rich gold. A ring that feels bold and romantic and unmistakably chosen for me.
“Stay with me,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “Build a life with me.” His eyes stay locked on mine, unwavering. “Marry me, Olivia.”
The moment the words leave his lips, the answer rises in me as naturally as breath.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Nathaniel goes very still.
His breath catches, his eyes sweeping my face as if he’s searching for proof that he heard correctly. When he finally speaks, his voice is tinged with disbelief—the kind that comes from wanting something too much, for too long.
“What?”
“Yes,” I repeat, my voice trembling with the relief of finally saying it aloud. “Yes, I will marry you, Nathaniel.”
The break in my voice isn’t from uncertainty, but from release.
His smile starts tentatively, as if he fears he may ruin the moment by moving too quickly. Then, it blooms into something so wide and radiant it makes my heart stutter. The sight of his happiness disarms me so thoroughly that tears begin to spill freely down my cheeks.
He lifts the open ring box, glancing from my hand back to my face with an unexpected shyness. “May I put this on you?”
His almost bashful tone makes my chest ache.
“Yes, my love. Of course you can,” I say, extending my left hand. “Please.”
The word feels like an opening—a doorway into the life we’re choosing.
Nathaniel removes the ring carefully and slides it onto my finger. I’m not surprised to find that it fits perfectly, as if it has always belonged there. He would never leave something like this to chance.
He cradles my hand in both of his, staring at the ring on my finger, awestruck.
“It looks perfect,” he murmurs, then glances up, suddenly nervous. “Do you like it?”
I wipe my cheeks with the back of my right hand, smiling through the remnants of emotion. “I love it.” I lean forward and brush a kiss to his mouth, soft and sure. “And I love you.”
He surges upward and gathers me into his arms. He holds me tightly against his chest, his face buried in my hair, grounding himself.
“God, I love you,” he breathes, kissing the side of my head. “I’ll make you happy, baby. I swear it.”
I stroke the back of his head. “I know you will. You already do. And I promise I’ll make you happy too.”
