I reached into my pocket and pulled out the box.
The ring was simple, a single round solitaire, one full carat, set on a thin platinum band that caught the river light and held it like a secret. No flash. Just perfect, sparkling beauty.
“I want to wake up every morning to the sound of this river and you breathing beside me. I want to be the one you reach for in the dark. I want to build whatever comes next with you—podcast episodes, Sunday dinners, babies, whatever life decides to hand us. I want to spend the rest of my life proving that you were always enough. You’ve always been everything.”
I dropped to one knee on the damp riverbank, the ring held between us like a promise. “Rebecca Lynn Hartford, will you marry me?”
She stood perfectly still for one heartbeat, two, the gold light trembling in her eyes. Then a soft smile unfurled across her face, lighting her up brighter than the sunset.
“Yes,” she whispered. Then again, stronger, laughing through happy tears. “Yes, Levi. God, yes.”
I rose, took her left hand, and slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. The stone caught the last pink edge of the sky and shimmered warm against her skin, simple and beautiful.
She stared at it for a long moment, thumb brushing the band like she still couldn’t believe it was real.
I cupped her face with both hands and kissed her while the river sang behind us and the pines stood witness.
Aggie’s door opened before we made it across the lot.
She appeared in the frame with the unhurried certainty of a woman who had absolutely not been watching through the window, backlit by the warm light inside, a cup of something steaming in her hand.
She looked at us. She looked at Becca’s left hand with the ring glinting in the light. “Well,” she called out, voice carrying across the gravel with pure delight. “Finally!”
Becca laughed, the sound startled and happy.
Aggie raised her mug in salute. “Congratulations, you two. About damn time.”
I felt a grin pull at the corners of my mouth. “Thanks, Aggie.”
She waved us off with the mug. “Go on. Enjoy your night. I’ll see you in the morning for coffee so I can properly admire that ring.”
Becca’s eyes widened. “Love you, Aggie.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.” She laughed and disappeared back inside, the door closing with a soft click.
We walked the last stretch to our trailer in silence, hands linked, the ring cool and certain against my palm.
I opened the door.
She stepped inside first.
The small living space smelled like her laundry soap and the faint trace of the lavender candle she liked to burn when she was recording. My jacket hung on the hook by the door. Her recording setup lived on the folding table by the window, facing the tree line. The bed was made with the quilt Aggie had given us—blue and white, the kind of thing that felt like home the second you touched it.
She stood in the middle of the room for a moment, looking at it all like she was seeing it for the first time.
I closed the door behind us with a soft click.
She turned, eyes shining in the warm lamplight, cheeks still flushed from the river air and the weight of everything we’d just said yes to.
I stepped into her space slowly, hands finding her waist, pulling her close until our bodies met in that familiar, perfect way. “We’re home,” I murmured against her mouth.
She kissed me first, like she was tasting the wordyesall over again. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt. “Home,” she echoed softly against my lips, smiling into the kiss. “I like the sound of that.”
I backed her gently toward the bed, never breaking contact, hands slipping under the hem of her hoodie. My palms met warm, smooth skin, and she sighed, arching just enough to press closer.
“Levi…” Her voice was breathy, almost a question.
I lifted the fabric slowly, reverently, letting my thumbs trace the curve of her waist as I peeled it away. “You’re so beautiful,” I whispered, eyes tracing every inch revealed. “Every single time I see you like this, I still can’t believe you’re real.”
