He'd chosen a ring that looked like me.
Had wantedme.
I slid the ring back onto my finger where it belonged and let myself feel the weight of it. The promise of it.
I was going to marry Brian Torres. I was going to spend the rest of my life with the man who'd waited four years for me to be ready, who'd run into a burning building because I was there, who looked at me like I was worth every moment of patience.
My phone buzzed. A text from Brian:Here.
I smiled, grabbed my bag, and headed for the exit.
His truck waited at the curb, and Brian was leaning against the passenger’s side door, arms crossed, watching for me.
He looked exhausted—he'd been on shift too—but when he saw me, his whole face changed. That slow smile took over his face, and he pushed off the truck to meet me halfway.
"Hey, fiancée."
"Hey."
I rose on my toes and kissed him. His arms came around me automatically, pulling me close, and for a moment we just stood there in the hospital parking lot, wrapped up in each other.
"How was your shift?" he asked against my hair.
"Weird, actually."
"Yeah?"
"Mm. Some firefighter showed up during a fire drill and asked me to marry him. Wildly unprofessional."
Brian laughed, the sound vibrating through him into me. "Sounds like a real troublemaker."
"The worst." I pulled back to look at him. "I said yes anyway."
"Lucky guy."
"The luckiest."
He kissed me again—soft, sweet, full of promise—then opened the passenger door for me. "Let's go home."
Watson greeted us at the door with an indignant yowl, weaving between our legs as we stepped inside.
"Someone's upset," Brian said, bending to scratch behind the cat's ears.
I dropped my bag by the door and looked around our apartment, the space we'd built together over months—learning each other's rhythms, habits, hearts. "I keep thinking about all those mornings on the balcony."
Brian straightened, his eyes finding mine. "Yeah?"
"All that coffee. All those conversations." I shook my head slowly. "I never imagined they'd bring me here."
Something crossed his face. "Do you regret any of it?"
I crossed the space between us, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled him down into a kiss. Soft at first. Then deeper.
"No," I breathed against his mouth. "Not a single moment."
I kissed him again, and this time Brian's hands found my waist, pulling me closer. The exhaustion from our shifts faded into background noise as heat gathered between us—slow and inevitable, four years in the making.
"Ava." My name came rough from his throat.
