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Gasps punctuate his declaration, the raw sincerity a slap to the over-polished facade of Hollywood romance. It's real, it's us, and it's happening right now.
I blink back the tears, a storm of disbelief and joy swirling in my chest. Ben's words, they're like a melody that's too sweet, too perfect. It's as if he's strumming every string of my heart with his voice alone. My hand trembles in his, and I squeeze tighter because, damn it, this man is shaking up my world in the best way possible.
"Kate," he whispers, and it's like a secret just for us, despite the sea of cameras and eyes fixed on us. "You have to know..."
His gaze burns into me, igniting fires in places I didn't even know could feel so warm. And it's not just his words that are undressing my soul. It's him. All of him. The way he stands, all pilot-like confidence and charm, but with this layer of something else—something soft and raw just beneath the surface.
He reaches into his pocket, slow and deliberate, and the room holds its breath. You can almost taste the suspense—it's like a tangy candy on everyone's tongue. A small velvet box appears between his fingers, and I swear my heart doesn't just pound. It freaking somersaults.
"Ben..." I breathe, my voice a mix of thrill and fear, because what's a girl to do when her every fantasy starts unfolding live on TV?
The whispers hit me like a wave, a hushed tsunami of "Oh my God" and "Is he?" crashing through the crowd as Ben's knee meets the ground. The room feels like it's spinning, every camera flash a pulse in the surreal heartbeat of this moment.
"Kate," Ben's voice is a caress, rough around the edges with naked emotion. "I've flown across skies, touched clouds, chased horizons, but nothing, absolutely nothing compares to the journey I've been on with you."
My hand flies up to cover my lips, a dam against the tide of shock and euphoria threatening to escape. This wasn’t in our plan. We didn’t talk about this. My eyes widen.
"Will you make me the luckiest man alive? Will you marry me?"
The world shrinks to the size of this room, to the space between us, and to that tiny box holding what I'm positive is a ridiculously gorgeous ring.
"God, yes!" The words tumble out, a jumble of laughter and tears, so brimming with emotion they're almost a physical thing, wrapping around us. "Yes, Ben, a thousand times, yes!"
There's no script, no director yelling cut, and definitely no second takes. It's raw, it's real, and holy hell, it's happening.
Applause erupts, a storm of clapping hands and cheers that flood the room with pure, unfiltered joy. Flashbulbs pop like fireworks, capturing the electric moment when my life—our lives—change forever.
"Wow," I murmur, the word barely audible over the cacophony, but Ben hears it. He stands up, his smile brighter than all those camera flashes combined. His hand, strong and sure, finds mine, fingers intertwining as if he's swearing never to let go.
"Right?" he whispers back, a chuckle vibrating through his chest. It's infectious, that sound, and I can't help but join in, laughter bubbling up from some deliriously happy place inside me.
We turn to face the crowd together, our united front against a sea of faces that blur into one giant, exuberant mass. I stand on tiptoes, riding the high, planting a kiss on Ben's cheek—a stamp of my affection for the world to see. He turns his head just so, and his lips meet mine in a kiss that makes a different kind of statement. It's a promise, a seal on a pact we've just made—publicly, boldly.
"Let's get out of here," he says, breathless as he breaks away, forehead pressed to mine. "Before they start asking us for wedding plans."
"Escape plan?" I tease, tilting my head to meet his gaze. The twinkle in his eye tells me he's game for anything, as long as it's with me.
"Always," he confirms with a grin, squeezing my hand before leading me through the maze of tables and well-wishers.
"Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell!" someone calls out, and the nickname hits me like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. I glance back at Ben, who winks at me, already owning the future that awaits us.
"Has a ring to it, doesn't it?" I shout over my shoulder, not caring about the pun. I want this—all of it—the good, the messy, the utterly unpredictable whirlwind that is loving Ben Caldwell.
"Only the best ring for my girl," he retorts with that dashing pilot's confidence.
"Your fiancée," I correct him, pride swelling in my chest as the word rolls off my tongue. It's new, it's shiny, and it fits perfectly.
"Damn right," he agrees, and then we're out the doors, into the quieter halls of the hotel, where our laughter echoes off marble walls. We're a little breathless, a lot giddy, and absolutely, irrevocably engaged.
"Kate Woodbridge-Caldwell," I test the name silently, a smile spreading across my face. It's more than a name. It's adventure, it's love—it's my happily ever after, taking flight.
EPILOGUE
Two years later
Ben
I pull the curtains open, and the first rays of the Tuscan sun spill into our bedroom, bathing the walls in a warm golden hue. Our villa, an old restored farmhouse nestled among rolling vineyards and olive groves, is the kind of place you see on postcards and sigh, wishing it were real.
