“Technically I proposed with ketchup.”
She lets out a watery laugh as I hold her gaze.
“I know we don’t have to,” I say quietly. “We’ve already got the house. The kid. The life.”
I glance toward Ivy, who is now attempting to climb out of her highchair.
“But I want to.”
The yard is still for a second as the words land between us.
Carina looks at the ring, then back at me, her eyes searching my face like she’s trying to measure the weight behind them.
“I want the whole thing,” I add. “The paperwork, the stupid seating chart. Heidi crying through the vows.”
Her mouth twitches.
“And the part where you legally have to keep me around,” I finish.
Carina huffs out a small laugh, but her eyes shine brighter.
“I already keep you around,” she says softly.
“Yeah,” I agree. “But I’d like it on record.”
Behind her, Ivy throws the remnants of her burger against the table, sending flecks of bread and ketchup flying.
Carina glances at her, then back at me. “And this is because you think we should?”
“No.” I rest my hands a little higher on her thighs, grounding myself there.
“It’s because I want all of it with you,” I say. “Every year. Every messy backyard dinner. Every weird tradition we make for her.” I tilt my chin toward Ivy. “And because I want every version of you.”
Carina’s brows pull together as I shudder a breath, feeling the emotion.
“I want to stand next to you while you do all the incredible things you’re meant to do. Want to be there while Ivy grows up watching her mom be the smartest person in every room.”
Her eyes shine brighter.
“I already know I’ve got the best life I could’ve ended up with, Carina. I just wanna make it official.”
For a second the whole yard goes quiet again—it’s just the soft creak of the treehouse in the breeze and Ivy humming to herself.
Carina looks down at the ring, then over to our daughter. When her eyes come back to mine, they’re bright and full and unmistakably certain.
“Yes,” she says. “I want that, too.”
And just like that, the whole damn world settles into place.
It’s a strange thing, hearing a word you already knew was coming and still feeling it land somewhere deep in your chest.
Carina lets out a shaky breath and laughs softly, wiping at the corner of one eye.
“Well,” she says, “you gonna put the ring on me, Hutchison? Or are you planning to keep kneeling there forever?”
That jolts me back into motion. I slide the ring from the box and take her hand.
Her fingers curl around mine instinctively, the same way they have a thousand times before—but this time feels different.
