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RYLEE HANSON (narrative)
The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a golden hue across Nika's peaceful face as she slept soundly beside me. Her dark lashes fanned out against her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corners. I swore my heart clenched just looking at her.
I couldn't sleep, not with her words still echoing in my mind.
"I want a life with you, Rylee. Forever."
I had replayed them a thousand times since she said them earlier today, each time with the same mix of exhilaration and nervous energy surging through me. It wasn't like this was the first time we'd talked about our future together—Nika and I had already imagined it in bits and pieces over the years. Lazy Sundays spent dreaming about a home of our own, conversations about names for the kids we hoped to have, and those subtle, quiet moments when she'd catch my eye and I just knew she was my person.
But this time felt different. Real. Permanent.
I brushed a strand of her hair out of her face, letting my fingers linger just a moment longer than necessary. She shifted slightly in her sleep, nestling closer to me, her body curling instinctively toward mine. My chest tightened at the sight.
I didn't just want forever with her. I needed it.
The thought made me restless, my mind buzzing with plans and possibilities. Proposing to Nika had always been in the cards, but now I felt the urgency in my bones. I didn't want to wait anymore. Not because I doubted her feelings or mine—those were as solid as the foundation we'd built together—but because I wanted to show her, prove to her, just how serious I was about building that forever life.
I slid my hand under my pillow and grabbed my phone, careful not to wake her. The dim light of the screen felt blinding in the darkness, and I squinted as I navigated to my texts. My thumb hovered over Paige's name for a moment before I took a deep breath and tapped it.
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