His lips tug at the corners like he wants to smile but holds it back. He nods gently, like he’s giving me space instead of pressure.
“I’ll go first then,” he says, voice dropping to that soft, gravelly tone that always makes me melt. “I see us growing closer…a lot closer.”
My breath hitches.
“I love you, Ivy,” he says. “Fast. Hard. In a way that doesn’t make sense but feels more right than anything I’ve ever known.”
“I want more than this,” he continues, eyes locked on mine. “Not just the good dates and late-night phone calls. I want the lifetime. I want to be the one who brings you coffee on a slow Monday morning. The one who fights with you over stupid stuff and then laughs about it five minutes later. I want all of it. With you.”
My throat tightens.
Then he adds, softer, a little breathless, “You know, I have to admit…it’s taking everything in me not to get on one knee right now.”
My stomach drops.
His eyes widen slightly, like the words slipped past his guard. “Oh boy,” he mutters, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean…that’s not…” He exhales, shaking his head. “What I meant is…I know we’re not there yet. I do. But, Ivy…” His gaze finds mine again, steady this time. “You’re my person. I don’t need more time to figure it out. I already know.”
My heart is racing as I try to process his words.
“But,” he adds with a crooked grin, “if that freaks you out, you can totally pretend I didn’t say any of that. Blame it on the coffee and sleep deprivation.”
I laugh, but it’s weak, shaky. My pulse is thunder in my ears.
“It doesn’t freak me out,” I say, though my voice is thin.
He tilts his head, studying me. “Are you sure?”
I nod too fast. “Yeah. I just...” I glance away, eyes catching on the napkin I’ve been shredding in my lap. “I think I just need to catch up.”
Gray is quiet for a moment. I feel the shift coming before he speaks again.
His gaze sharpens, earnest and unblinking. “So, about what you asked me earlier…are you ready for that? To actually make that decision? To be saved?” His words tumble out in a rush, like he’s been holding them back for weeks and can’t anymore.
My chest tightens.
He leans forward, elbows braced on his knees, voice low but urgent. “Because Ivy, it’s everything. It’s the whole point. You don’t have to wait until you’ve caught up or figured it all out. You can say yes to Jesus right now, tonight, and nothing will ever be the same again.”
The intensity in his eyes makes it hard to breathe. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“And…” He hesitates for half a beat, then presses on. “Have you thought about getting baptized?”
The questions land like stones being thrown at my chest.
I don’t even think. “No.”
His eyebrows lift, surprised. “No?”
“I’m not ready,” I say quickly. “I just...I don’t know. It’s a big deal.”
He leans back slightly, his brows pulling together. “But you’ve been coming to church. Reading your Bible. Hanging out with me. You believe in Jesus, right?”
“I do,” I whisper. “I think I do.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
His voice is gentle—but it still feels like pressure. Like I’m failing some invisible test.
“I don’t know,” I say, but that’s not true. I do know. I just don’t want to admit it. Not yet.
