Page 88 of His Orders

I sit up, the blanket falling away from my shoulders, forgotten. I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I just watch as the door opens all the way and Ethan steps inside.

His chest rises and falls like he ran the last few blocks, hair slightly damp, cheeks flushed with cold and exertion. He is windblown, breathless, and utterly beautiful. There is snow clinging to his shoulders, melting in streaks down the collar of his coat. He looks at me like I’m the sun breaking through storm clouds, like he hasn’t seen light in days and forgot how to lookaway from it. His eyes are wide, and they find mine instantly, like he had been looking for me the entire time.

And then he moves.

I don’t have time to speak, to stand, to do anything before he’s in front of me, dropping to one knee. It happens so quickly I almost don’t process it. One moment, he is by the door, and the next, he is kneeling in front of me with his coat still on, his hair still wet, his eyes brighter than I have ever seen them.

My breath catches.

He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls something out. A small velvet box. He opens it, and inside is a ring so simple and stunning it makes my throat close up. A slender band. A single stone. Timeless.

“I love you,” he says.

The words land on my chest like a heartbeat.

His voice is low but certain. There’s no hesitation in it, only truth. “I think I’ve always loved you,” he says. “From the moment you stormed into the hospital with that fire in your eyes and refused to let me look away.”

Tears fill my eyes.

He keeps going, his voice thick but unwavering. “I’m done fighting it. I don’t want to spend another second pretending like I can live without you. Because I can’t. And I don’t want to. I don’t care what we’ve been through. I don’t care that we broke in places we thought couldn’t heal. I care that we found our way back.”

I cover my mouth with one hand, the other pressed to the center of my chest where something soft and trembling is beginning to unfurl.

“I know I’ve made mistakes,” he says. “And I know you’re scared. But if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I’m not going anywhere. That you and our baby are my family now.”

He lifts the box.

The ring glints in the low light. Pure and delicate. A promise made visible.

“Marry me, Ivy.”

The room tilts.

I blink and realize I’m crying. The tears stream down without warning, hot and full, but not heavy. They are not the tears of heartbreak or confusion. They are something else. Something like joy. Something like home.

I don’t need to think.

I don’t need to run through every mistake we made or every scar we earned. I don’t need to weigh the past against the future. Because everything I need is kneeling in front of me, holding out a ring with shaking hands and eyes full of love.

“Yes,” I whisper.

Then louder, stronger. “Yes.”

Ethan exhales hard, his shoulders sagging in relief, and then he’s reaching for me, standing and pulling me into his arms before I can blink again. I rise into him without hesitation, my arms wrapping around his neck, the box tumbling forgotten onto thecouch. His mouth finds mine, and the kiss is deep and full of everything we have never quite said right, everything we have always meant. His hands slide into my hair, his breath warm against my cheek, and I sink into the safety of it. Into the truth of it.

He kisses me like he’s sealing a promise. And maybe he is.

Because this is not a beginning. Not really.

This is a return.

When we break apart, his forehead leans against mine, and I feel his breath fan across my skin.

“I was going to wait,” he murmurs, voice raw. “Make it special. I even stopped to pick up flowers. But I couldn’t. I just needed to see you.”

I pull back just enough to look at him, to really look.

“You didn’t need flowers,” I whisper.

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