Page 129 of Midnight Between Us
The confession stings on its way out, scraping against everything I’ve buried and everything I’ve ruined.
I reach into my jacket pocket.The velvet box presses into my fingers, worn at the edges.I’ve carried it around, waiting for a moment I thought might never come.Until I decided to plan it for the perfect moment.Midnight.
When I open it, the world hushes.
The ring is a vintage rose gold setting that holds an elongated cushion-cut diamond, haloed in delicate scrollwork.The band—lined with tiny diamonds—feels like a trail back to her.Every detail carved with purpose.Like her.Like us.It’s not flashy.It’s hers.
“I didn’t pick this because it was expensive.”I cradle the box in my palm like it might explain everything I can’t say.“I picked it because it felt like you.Beautiful without trying.Bold without needing to be loud.It’s as if it already belonged to you before I even knew you’d say yes.”
I watch her face as the ring catches the light between us.Her breath hitches just slightly.Her eyes burn—not with uncertainty, but with knowing.
“Because somehow,” I continue, “I still get to be here.With you.In this moment.”
And then I let it all go.
“I want to love you in all the ways you’ve always wanted.The ways you’ve always deserved.The ways that leave no trace of fear in that brilliant mind of yours.I want you to wake up beside me every morning and know—not wonder, not hope—that you are home.”
Her lips part.Her chin tilts just barely like she’s bracing herself for impact.
“I love you, Simone.And I don’t want to keep counting time in regret.I want the years ahead to be measured in kisses, kids, and laughter.In quiet mornings and loud fights and ridiculous traditions and every small, ordinary thing we never thought we’d get.I want your cold feet in the middle of the night.I want coffee-stained counters and crooked photo frames.”
I exhale, the words I never said pressing just beneath my breath, too heavy to name now.
“I want forever—with all its imperfect, brutal, beautiful shit.With you.Only you.”
I look up at her when I ask, “Will you marry me?”
She doesn’t answer right away.
Instead, she kneels too—drops to the wooden dock like it’s the only place she’s ever meant to be.Her dress pools around her thighs, her knees catching against the weather-worn planks as if the whole lake is bowing with her.She cups my face in both hands, and her touch is fire and forgiveness all at once.
Her lips brush mine—barely there but full of every yes she doesn’t know how to say yet.
And then she breathes it out, right there against my mouth.Broken.Sure.
“Yes.”
Her answer is choked through a laugh that turns into a sob she tries to swallow.Her cheeks are wet.So are mine.We’re a goddamn beautiful mess, except—no.Not a mess.Not anymore.We’re just us.Honest and undone and finally, finally here.
She lets out this half-laugh, half-sob as I pull her into me, pressing her to my chest like I’ll never let her go.The lake keeps our secret, its surface quiet, mirroring stars we forgot to look at.Overhead, the string lights sway with the breeze, casting soft gold on her hair, her skin, the tears streaking her cheeks.
Her fingers tremble as I slip the ring on, and I feel it—her breath hitching, her heart thudding against mine like it’s just realized it’s safe to beat without fear again.
And for once, I don’t think about how far I’ve come.Or how close I came to losing her.I don’t think about mistakes or missed chances.
I only think about this.
About her.
About forever—burning quiet and golden in the soft light between us.
And midnight between us, like a promise whispered into time where our past finally fuses with our present and the future.
The Last Call Home
Cassian
The Birchwood Springs welcome sign is overly cheerful for a town that could turn to ash if we’re not careful.
