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I exit the car quietly, the gravel crunching beneath my boots as I circle around to her side. Opening her door with careful hands, I unbuckle her seatbelt and slide my arms beneath her, one around her shoulders, the other under her knees. She weighs nothing to me, but I move with excessive caution, terrified of banging her head against the car frame and waking her with a nasty bump.

Once she’s safely in my arms, I nudge the door closed with my hip and stand for a moment, just looking at her. My heart swells to the point that it feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. I can’t believe she’s mine. Can’t believe that one year ago, one fucked-up, terrifying, beautiful Halloween night with a flimsy plan changed everything. I adjust her carefully so her head nestles into the crook of my neck, feeling her warm breath against my skin.

“I love you,” I whisper to her sleeping form, the words seeming insufficient for the hurricane of emotion sweeping through me.

I set off down the forest path, fallen leaves and pine needles softening my footsteps. The sound of the river grows louder as we approach, that same river where we first crossed a line neither of us could uncross. Memories flash through my mind—her tied up, my mouth between her thighs, the fear and desire mixing in a cocktail that still makes my blood heat when I think of it. I shake the thoughts away, focusing on the present. We have time for that later.

Weird as it was, I completed my bucket list that night. Even if some things didn’t work as planned, I got to make some of my fantasies come true. Since then, I’ve created a new bucket list. For us.

Leaning down, I press my lips to the crown of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. My fierce, beautiful and sassy Vivian.

The cabin looks different in daylight, less ominous than it did that night. After the incident, it was renovated and made available to whoever wants to rent it. And of course, I’ve rented it properly this time—no breaking and entering, no kidnapping. Just a boyfriend surprising his girlfriend for their anniversary. Halloween. The best season of the year–sorry folks, this is the only right opinion. Yesterday, I spent hours preparing the cabin, making sure everything would be perfect.

I struggle with the keys on the door, trying to balance Vivian in my arms while turning the knob. After some awkward maneuvering, we make it inside. I place her gently in the chair facing the fireplace, pausing to brush a curl from her face before heading back to the car for the box I forgot yesterday.

When I return, Vivian is still sleeping peacefully. I set the box down and close the door behind me, double-checking the lock. It works now, unlike a year ago—a fact I’m sure Vivian will appreciate the irony of.

I adjust my backward cap and open the box and begin setting up, placing candles strategically around the room—on the mantle above the fireplace, near the window, on the small table, and surrounding the bed. I light each one carefully, the scent of vanilla and honey gradually filling the space. When I finish, I stand back to admire my handiwork. The golden glow of candlelight transforms the rustic cabin into something intimate, warm and almost sacred.

“What... is this, Andy?”

I turn to find Vivian awake, standing with her mouth slightly open as she takes in the transformed space. I hadn’t heard her stir, too caught up in my preparations. Her eyes sweep the room—the comfortable bed with its plush comforter, the duck feather-filled pillows she loves, the flickering candles, the mini-fridge stocked with her favorite beer, the fluffy rug beside the bed.

“Is this THE cabin?!” Her voice rises in disbelief, and I can’t help the smug smile that spreads across my face.

I open my arms to her, inviting her in. “It’s going to be one year since we shared the craziest night of our lives and since we started dating... This is my gift—”

Before I can finish, she crosses the space between us and throws herself into my arms, her body warm and soft against mine. Her hands stroke my back, fingers tracing patterns at my nape, and I melt into her touch. The familiar electricity shoots through my skin, my cock hardening embarrassingly fast. After a year together, she still has this power over me—a power that should be studied by scientists or at least documented for posterity.

I turn my head to press a kiss to her cheek. “You like it?” I ask, squeezing her tighter in my arms.

She makes a soft sound, almost like an “oof,” that’s so adorable I want to record it and make it my ringtone.

“Yeah, I mean... it looks less like a sex dungeon and more like a...” She trails off, searching for the right word.

“...cozy retreat,” I finish for her, knowing exactly what she means.

She smiles up at me, and my heart does that thing again—that somersault that makes me dizzy with love. I rest my hands on her hips, feeling the curve of them beneath my palms. That’s when I notice something cold against my wrist.

In a movement so swift I barely register it, Vivian snaps a handcuff around my wrist. My mouth falls open in surprise, but I’m not quick enough to react before she secures the other cuff.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing...” My voice drops lower as realization dawns, excitement replacing surprise.

I step closer to her, invading her space until she’s nearly backed against the bed. “Are we doing things your style, cariad?” I ask, the endearment rolling off my tongue like honey.

“Sit on the chair now,” she commands, her voice firmer than I’ve ever heard it.

My cock twitches in my jeans, responding to her dominance instantly. “Yes, ma’am,” I reply, unable to keep the smirk from my face as I do as I’m told.

Fuck, I love it when she’s bossy.

She retrieves a length of rope from somewhere—wait, did she know about my plans? Or had she planned this all along? This is a reverse Uno at my plan—and kneels to secure my ankles to the chair legs. I watch her, transfixed by the concentration on her face, the way she bites her lower lip as she works.

Then she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a black blindfold, and my nostrils flare with desire.

“Oh, you’re getting kinky. I like it...” My voice is strained, already thick with want.

She doesn’t respond, just slides the blindfold over my eyes with deliberate slowness and ties it. As my vision goes dark, my other senses heighten instantly—the vanilla and honey scent of the candles more pronounced, the sound of her breathing louder, the feeling of her fingers against my skin burning.