Suddenly, this doesn’t feel like enough anymore.
“I love you,” I say.
Her expression softens instantly. “I love you too.”
I swallow hard before sitting back on my heels. My pulse is pounding now, harder than it did before any game this season.
Then I reach for her hand, and the second my fingers close around hers, her smile falters slightly. Carefully, I slide the ring from her finger.
She goes still. “Zach. What are you—”
“Stand up for me.”
Confusion flickers across her face, but she does it anyway, letting me guide her up off the couch.
“You've already asked me—”
“I know.” I step back. Then I lower myself onto one knee on her living room floor.
Honey’s breath catches as I look up at her, clutching the ring tighter between my fingers.
“I’ve asked you before,” I admit. “Probably a hundred times if we’re being honest.” A shaky smile pulls at my mouth. “But I've never heard you actually say yes to it.”
Her eyes start shining as tears start to well.
“On the field,” I say, “you had the ring on, and I kissed you. It was everything I wanted, but it wasn't this.” I hold her gaze. “I want to do it right.”
“I get it,” I say as my thumb rubs against the ring between my fingers.
“The cruise. You leaving, moving colleges, the four months of not telling me where you were.” I shake my head slightly. “I get why you needed it, and I’m not gonna lie and pretend it didn’t wreck me sometimes, because it did.” I let out a breath. “There were nights I hated not knowing where you were sleeping. Whether you were okay. Whether you missed me too.”
My throat tightens.
“But watching you become this version of yourself?” I look around her apartment again briefly before finding her eyes. “Watching you build a life that’s yours becauseyouchose it...”
I smile faintly.
“It just made me more sure.”
Her face falls.
“Sure of what?” she whispers.
“That you’re the person I want beside me for the rest of my life.”
“Zach—”
“I don’t just want the easy parts with you, Honeycomb. I want all of it. The messy parts. The scared parts. The version of you that jumped off a cliff alone because she needed to prove she could.”
A tear slips down her cheek.
“And the version that grabbed my hand on the zip line and jumped.” I smile softly. “I want every version of you.”
The apartment is completely silent now except for both of us breathing.
“I want to build things with you,” I admit. “A home. Traditions. Sunday mornings. Stupid arguments about where we’re ordering dinner from.” A small laugh leaves me. “I want whatever comes next, as long as you’re in it.”
My pulse is hammering.
