Morning came softly. Sunlight slipped through the sheer curtains, gently caressing Celeste's still-sleeping face. Her hair was tousled against the pillow, and on the other side of the bed, Alistair sat propped up, watching her with a smile he never realized he could wear—one that was genuine, not born of triumph… but of belonging.
He didn't wake her. He simply sat there, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her arm, which still clung to the blanket. Last night hadn't just been intimacy—it had been a merging. A small bridge they'd finally crossed together, not out of obligation, but courage.
A few minutes later, Celeste slowly blinked her eyes open. And the first thing she saw was… Alistair. Sitting at the edge of the bed, gazing at her as if she were something precious.
"You're awake," he murmured, his voice deep and rough. "Morning."
Celeste smiled faintly—nervous, but warm. "Morning…"
A sweet silence lingered. But only for a moment, because Alistair rose and retrieved something from the small dresser. A box. Small. Black. Velvet. Celeste sat up immediately, her pulse erratic.
"I know this is too soon. But…" Alistair held her gaze, then slowly opened the box. A simple ring, yet with a clear oval diamond at its center. "After everything you've been through, all the wounds you've carried in silence… I want to be the reason you're no longer afraid to face the world."
Her eyes welled. Celeste covered her mouth, stunned, even holding her breath. But Alistair remained steady.
"I know this isn't about money or power. But… I want you to be my wife. Because I love you. Because I can't see a future where you're not in it."
Celeste bowed her head. Her thoughts raced. But there was no refusal. No fear like before.
"If you agree…" Alistair continued softly, "I'll give you a wedding you'll never forget. But if you want something simple… I'll still honor you."
Celeste nodded slowly, her breath trembling. "I… will marry you."
Alistair's eyes softened. He pressed a lingering kiss to the back of Celeste's hand, as if silently vowing to protect her forever.
And that day, the atmosphere in the modern mansion they called home shifted. The staff bustled about. Alistair's personal assistant had already scheduled meetings with top-tier wedding planners. Dress selections, venues, an expedited date… Everything was set into motion.
But Celeste didn't feel panicked. She simply sat on her balcony that evening, gazing at the garden while absently tracing the ring on her finger.
For the first time in her life—she felt safe. And loved.
---
Alistair still held Celeste's hand, his thumb brushing over her ring finger. His smile was faint, but his gaze was so deep it seemed to pierce straight through to her soul.
"I never thought there'd be someone who could make me… afraid to lose them like this," he said quietly. "But you—you've conquered the deepest part of me."
Celeste lowered her head, hiding the warmth in her cheeks. Her fingers tightened around his.
"Alistair… why me?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Of all the women you could have chosen… why me, with all my scars?"
"You think I wanted perfection?" Alistair smirked. "I wanted someone real. Someone who's fallen but still chooses to walk. That… is you."
Celeste held her breath. She could feel her own heartbeat trembling in her chest.
"I'm scared…"
"Of what?"
"Scared… I won't be able to repay everything you've given me."
Alistair inhaled deeply, then stroked her cheek gently. "I don't need repayment, Celeste. Just you being here. Beside me. That's enough."
Tears pooled in Celeste's eyes. But not from sadness. From the slow, quiet healing of her soul.
"You're sure you want to marry me? Even when I can't promise anything?"
"I'm sure. Precisely because you don't promise anything, I can believe you."
He chuckled softly, then leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. Their breaths mingled.
"I want to be the reason you smile every morning," he whispered. "And the only embrace you seek when the world feels too heavy."
Celeste closed her eyes. She didn't answer with words.
She answered with a nod and a soft, meaningful kiss against Alistair's lips.
And that day, it wasn't just a ring that rested on Celeste's finger. But an unspoken promise—that for the first time, they would learn to love… not to possess, but to heal.