CHAPTER ONE: THE PROPOSAL

I was wearing his ring when he put a bullet through my chest.

Hollup! Let me take you back to where it all began. Back when love still felt safe. Back when I was too drunk on him to notice the warning signs written across his forehead.

Champagne fizzed on my tongue, tiny fireworks bursting inside me. Adrian’s fingers—God! Those fingers that used to undo me with a touch—drew lazy circles across my bare shoulder. We were tangled in his king-sized bed, my bridesmaid dress abandoned on the floor beside his undone bow tie.

“You’ve got that wrinkle again,” he murmured against the curve of my neck. His breath was warm, sweet with champagne. “Right… here.”

His thumb pressed gently between my brows, and I brushed his hand away, laughing.

“Three years together and you still study my face like you’re studying for an exam.”

“Because every time I look at you, I find something new.” His voice softened, secretive. “Like right now, there’s this tiny gold fleck in your left eye. I swear it wasn’t there yesterday.”

My chest tightened. This man. This crazy, wonderful man who noticed flecks of gold.

“And there it is again,” he teased. “That off-key humming you do when you’re drunk and happy.”

“I do not hum off-key,” I said with a laugh.

“Oh, you do, babe. Remember our second date? You were humming in the elevator like you were dying—poor Mrs. Brown almost called building security!”

Heat crawled up my neck at the memory. That cursed elevator. I’d been humming “With You,” floating too high in love to care. And when the doors opened and we finally sat down to eat, Adrian had been fumbling with spaghetti sauce on his shirt, nervous and adorable. By the end of that night, I was already his.

“She had no taste for artistic talent,” I said with a little laugh.

Adrian’s laugh shook his whole body. “Artistic talent? Baby, you sounded like a car alarm.” He kissed my cheeks. “But I loved it. Loved that you were so happy you couldn’t hold it in.”

I pushed up on my elbows to study him. His hair was a wreck from my fingers, my lipstick left a mark on his jaw, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just us.

“You remember our first date?” His thumb brushed my cheekbone.

“When your car broke down in the rain?”

“You mean when I wanted to take you to the fanciest restaurant in New York?” His eyes softened. “I was furious. Had the whole night planned—an expensive restaurant, perfect table. And instead, we were stuck in my car, sharing takeout while the rain hammered the windows. But then… you laughed at my stupid jokes. And I thought, this. This is what I want for the rest of my life.”

A shy smile broke through as I whispered, “Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew I was screwed. Three hours in, and I was already picturing rings.” His forehead pressed to mine. “You had whipped cream on your nose, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to kiss you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because if I did, I’d never let you go.”

The way he said it—it carved straight into my chest.

“You know every scar,” he whispered. “Every nightmare. You’re the only one who never left, even when I gave you every reason to.”

His eyes couldn’t leave mine. “I can’t wait to make you my wife,” he whispered.

Wife. The word was lightning in my veins.

I threw my head back, arms spread wide, and screamed at the ceiling, “Hey! Everyone! Adrian Thorne wants to marry me!”

He pulled me down, laughing. “You’re insane.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” I laughed. “Just wait until we get married. Then you’ll see real madness.”

We laughed until tears blurred everything, until our stomachs ached. This was us. Pure chaos wrapped in love so deep it scared me.

Then, he froze.

His whole body went rigid, like standing on the edge of something huge.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

His trembling hand reached over the bed’s edge and came back with a tiny black box.

My heart burst.

“Adrian…”

“Wait.” His voice cracked. “Let me… let me do this right.”

He slid off the bed and dropped to one knee on the hardwood. Shirtless, hair a wreck, I could see tears gathering in his eyes. The ring box shook in his hand.

“I wrote this speech fifty times,” he said, breath shaking. “Tore it up fifty-one. Nothing was good enough for you.”

Tears spilled hot and fast down my cheeks.

“Three years ago, I met this girl at the worst party in Manhattan. Everyone else was noisy, but she… she sat alone in a corner, quiet, and I swear she glowed. From that moment, I knew I’d seen the most beautiful thing in my life. Still do.”

“Adrian…” My voice was a sob.

“No, please. Let me.” He wiped his face with his free hand. “That night, you told me you hated small talk. Said you’d rather know someone’s deepest fear than their favorite food.”

I nodded, wiping away tears from my eyes.

“Mine was dying alone. Being forgotten. Then you smiled at me, and I knew I’d never be alone again.”

My whole chest cracked open.

“When I woke up from that nightmare, terrified and couldn’t catch my breath—you pulled me close, let me rest my head in your lap, and just ran your fingers through my hair until I fell back asleep. Didn’t need any explanations. Didn’t need anything but to make me feel safe.” His voice cracked. “And I thought, God! I’m going to marry her.” He laughed through his tears. “Six months in, and I was already a finished man.”

The box snapped open, light catching the ring—a simple band with diamonds that looked like stolen stars.

“You make me laugh when I’m angry. You sweeten my coffee on bad days without me asking. You believe in me when I don’t believe in myself.”

His voice broke. “You love me even when I’m impossible. Even when I try to push you away. You love every broken piece of me.”

He shattered. His shoulders shook as tears spilled freely.

“I don’t just want a lifetime with you. I want every single second,” he said, his voice shaking. “Every morning I wake up and see you, every stupid fight about movies, every laugh until my stomach hurts. I want all of that. I want to hold your hand when it’s raining, when it’s cold, when life is falling apart. I want to see you when we’re old, gray, wrinkled, and my heart will still skip a beat when you look at me. I want you to be the mother of my children.”

The words cut me wide open. My chest tightened, my heart felt like it might burst. I couldn’t breathe for a moment, just stared at him, stunned.

“Aurora Marie Winters,” he said my full name like a vow, like a prayer. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” The word ripped out of me as my knees hit the ground. I was shaking, tears streaming down my face as I nodded over and over. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

His hands trembled so hard he nearly dropped the ring. I guided him, slid it onto my finger. It fit like destiny.

We hugged each other, crying, kissing, laughing—so tangled I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began. He pressed his lips to the ring again and again, whispering, “You said yes,” like he couldn’t believe it.

“Thank you,” he breathed into my hair, voice breaking. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive. I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” I sobbed against his neck.

Those words. Those perfect, impossible promises.

I believed every one of them.

Every single one.

God! I was such a fool!