He just kept smiling that dazed, boyish smile… like he’d stumbled into a fairytale and didn’t want to wake up.

And one week later, he proposed.

We hadn’t really talked about marriage. Not in the way you do when you’re building a future.

No deep conversations about kids or biological clocks or timelines, no dreamy what-if scenarios over wine. Just vague nods to “someday” and offhand comments about “building something together.”

It always felt like a placeholder, not a plan. So when he showed up a week later, standing in my living room with a ring box in one hand and nervous energy leaking from every pore, I blinked.

Unaware. But also… not surprised. Ryan launched into a speech.

He went on about knowing when you’ve found the one. About how life’s too short to wait or waste time. Something about seizing the moment when the universe gives you a sign.

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