Damien's POV
I had been planning it for months, because when I wanted something arranged, it got arranged.
What took months was the meaning of it. What I wanted to say. How to say it to a woman who had survived every version of my worst self and still, somehow, chosen to stay. I wrote it out, threw it away, wrote it again. Aria would have found this both amusing and appropriate.
Barnes had helped with the deed. Dr. Reeves had helped with the name. The rest of it — the rooftop, the photographs, the specific arrangement of everything — I had done myself, or as close to myself as a man with my resources could manage, which meant I supervised every detail personally and sent back three separate lighting arrangements before I was satisfied.
It was the most nervous I'd been since the day I proposed to her properly.
