Only fitting she has a ring to match.
Olivia’s turned toward me now, hand pressed to her chest, eyes reflecting every colour of the sunset behind her. She kisses Teddy first, then she grabs my collar and yanks me forward, and we topple backwards into the grass, tulips bending around us as she kisses me like she’s trying to memorise the shape of mysoul. Teddy giggles, climbing on top of us, squishing his cheeks between ours.
It’s chaos. Soft and wild and perfect.
She pulls back just slightly, breathless with laughter. “Wait… where did you even get the blindfold from?”
I grin. “Ah. Borrowed it off your brother.”
She narrows her eyes. “Which one?”
“Bradley.” I smirk.
Olivia laughs, shaking her head. “Of course you did.” Then she leans in again and presses one more kiss to my lips. Her fingers tangle briefly in my shirt, like she’s not quite ready to let go. Eventually, we stand, brushing off petals and grass. She starts to wipe at her cheeks.
“There’s one more thing,” I say.
Her brows pull together. “Bash…”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the small stack I’ve been holding onto for months. Faded sticky notes. Crumpled corners. Ink smudged from my fingers.
Her handwriting. Every damn one.
Her lips part. “You… kept those?”
“Every single one.” I flip the first one over. “‘Don’t forget the milk or I’ll murder you xoxo Trouble.’You left that after the first grocery run we ever did together. I laughed like an idiot the whole drive home.”
I show her the next.
“‘Try to smile more today, Grumpy.’You left that after the shittiest shift of my life. I stuck it to my dashboard for a week.”
Another.
“‘Thanks for letting me fall asleep on your lap even though I drooled.’ That was the night you told me about your dad’s health was playing up. I stayed awake long after you did. I just held you.” Her tears fall unchecked now. Mine damn near do too. “Ikept them all, because deep down, they meant something to me,” I say softly. “Becauseyouwrote them.”
Then, right on cue, the first drop of rain lands on my cheek. Another drop. Then another. Soft summer rain, light and warm, smelling faintly of eucalyptus.
“Perfect timing.”
“For what?”
I grin. “To dance with me.”
She laughs through a sob. “What? Here?”
“Right here.” I hold out my hand. “Dance with me in the rain, Trouble.”
I pull out my phone, set up my Bluetooth, and somewhere behind us, hidden in the flowers, the small speaker I planted crackles to life. ‘Summer Rain’ starts to play. A soft guitar, warm synth, a nostalgic kind of melody that feels like being held. It’s gentle, hopeful, drenched in longing.
“This… this song.” Her face tilts up, rain dripping from her lashes. “It’s one of my favourites.”
“I know,” I whisper, brushing her wet hair behind her ear. I hold her tighter. Tighter than I ever have. Like she might float away if I let go. Rain slips over her bare shoulders, down the back of her dress, and seeps through the collar of my shirt, but neither of us flinches. Because nothing else exists right now. Just this moment. Just the three of us. And even though I still call herTroublelike it’s a joke, somewhere along the way, she stopped being the kind I’d tried to avoid. The girl who talked too loudly. Felt everything all at once. Loved too damn hard.
She became something else entirely.
My calm.
My storm.
