It was supposed to be a simple snow-day walk. Just us, quiet trees, and that kind of cold that makes you hold hands tighter. Ryan kept stopping to fix my scarf and check the light, which should’ve been my first clue. I was laughing, cheeks numb, thinking about hot coffee, when he leaned in and kissed my face like he was trying to memorize the moment.
Then he gently lifted my hand into view, like he wanted the world to see what I was still processing. The ring caught the winter sun and I covered my smile on instinct, because happy tears in the snow are a lot.
We didn’t say much after. We didn’t need to. The forest stayed quiet, and my hand suddenly felt like it had a future.
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