“Go get dressed,” I tell her, trying to keep my tone casual. “We’re going out.”
Her brows knit together in confusion. “Out? Where?”
I smile, enjoying the little game I’m playing. “I left you a dress on the bed. I’d like you to wear it.”
She narrows her eyes, suspicious. “And why should I trust your fashion sense?”
I laugh, pushing off the counter and walking over to her, brushing my fingers along her jawline, my thumb grazing her lips. “Because” I say softly, “tonight is special.”
She studies me for a moment, trying to read my intentions, but then she relents, sighing dramatically. “Fine. But if it’s something ridiculous, I’m not wearing it.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” I promise, stepping back and giving her a playful shove toward the bedroom. “Now, go.”
She rolls her eyes but turns and heads to the room, and I hear her footsteps fade as she moves down the hallway. I take a deep breath, leaning back against the counter, my heart pounding with anticipation. Tonight has to be perfect. I’ve spent weeks planning this, weeks trying to find the right moment, until I finally realized there’s no such thing as the right moment. There’s just the moment you make right.
Minutes pass, and then I hear her footsteps again, softer this time. I look up, and the sight of her takes my breath away. She stands in the doorway, wearing the sage-green maxi dress I picked out, the fabric hugging her curves perfectly. Her red hair falls in loose waves down her back, catching the dim kitchen light and glowing like ember in the night.
She looks uncertain, her fingers playing with the edge of the dress. “Is this okay?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.
I swallow hard, nodding. “More than okay, Alessia. You’re… breathtaking.”
A blush creeps up her cheeks, and she looks down, smiling. “You’re just saying that because you picked the dress.”
I chuckle, moving toward her, reaching for her hand. “I’m saying it because it’s true.” I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “Come on. Let’s go.”
We step out into the cool night, the city humming around us, the distant sounds of traffic and nightlife filling the air. I lead her to the car, opening the door for her and watching as she slides in, the green fabric of her dress spilling around her like liquid emerald. I close the door behind her, taking a deep breath to steady myself before walking around to the driver’s side and getting in.
As I start the engine, I feel her gaze on me. “You’re being awfully mysterious,” she says, a teasing edge to her voice.
I smirk, keeping my eyes on the road as I pull out of the parking lot. “You’ll see soon enough.”
She lets out a huff, crossing her arms but smiling, “You know I hate surprises.”
“And yet, you’re with me,” I reply, shooting her a quick grin.
She laughs softly, shaking her head. “You’ve got a point there.”
We drive through the city, the streets lit up with a million lights, the buildings towering above us like silent sentinels. Tension builds in my chest with every passing mile, the anticipation clawing at me, but I force myself to stay calm, to keep my hands steady on the wheel.
We reach the park, the place where I almost let her slip away from me, but also the place where I found her again. I park the car and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “We’re here,” I say softly.
She looks around, her brow furrowing in confusion. “The park?”
I nod, getting out of the car and moving to open her door. She steps out, looking around, still clearly puzzled. I take her hand, leading her down the familiar path, the one that winds through the trees and toward the bench where I found her that night.
And then she sees it—the candles, the flowers, the fairy lights strung up in the trees, casting a soft, golden glow over the clearing. Her breath catches in her throat, and she stops, her hand tightening on mine.
“Romiro…” she whispers, her voice filled with emotion.
I squeeze her hand, leading her closer to the bench, our steps slow and deliberate. “I wanted to bring you back here,” I explain, my voice low, “because this is where everything changed for me. This is where I realized I couldn’t lose you.”
She turns to me, her eyes wide and glistening with tears. “What… what is all this?”
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding so hard I can barely hear my own thoughts. “This,” I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the small velvet box, “is where I ask you to be mine forever.”
Her eyes go even wider, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasps. “Oh, my God…”
I drop to one knee, flipping open the box to reveal the ring—a vintage piece, delicate and beautiful, the diamond catching the light and sparkling like a star. “Will you marry me?” I ask, my voice thick with emotion.
