105– Ivan POV
I can't do it. I can't be patient.
Zander's moving around the cabin, switching off lights, locking the doors, humming like it's just another night. Like he didn't spend the whole day not proposing.
The man is ridiculous.
I sit there on the bed, arms crossed, watching him. Waiting. Hoping he'll suddenly turn around and say something. But no. He just disappears into the front of the boat, fiddling with some useless cabin controls.
That's it. I'm done waiting.
If he's going to chicken out, then fine. But I'm not going to sit here in suspense losing my mind.
I get up. Quietly. Tiptoe across the cabin. And start snooping.
Drawers? Nothing.
Backpack? Nope.
Under the clothes? Ugh, just socks.
Then—bathroom.
I slip in and shut the door softly behind me. My heart's hammering, but I don't care.
I slip in and shut the door softly behind me. My heart's hammering, but I don't care.
I check behind his obnoxiously expensive toiletries—I see it.
A small velvet box, tucked behind a bottle of cologne.
My breath catches.
I stare at it for a solid ten seconds, telling myself don't open it, don't open it—let him do this right.
...and then I open it anyway.
My fingers tremble a little when I finally flick it open.
...Oh.
I blink.
It's—beautiful.
Nothing gaudy. Nothing over-the-top. Just perfect.A green gemstone, soft and gleaming like sea glass, edged with delicate vines and tiny diamonds. Elegant. Understated. Romantic.
And so me I can barely breathe.
My eyes blur. Tears sting before I can stop them.
I wipe them away with the back of my hand. No. No crying. Not right now.
I touch the edge of the ring gently. Careful, like it's fragile.
God, how long has he been holding onto this?
I can practically picture him agonizing over the choice. Probably tortured some poor jeweler for weeks.
And—just like that—the truth hits me like a freight train.
He wants to marry me.
He wants to marry me.
My throat closes. My heart's thudding so hard I think I'm going to collapse right here on the bathroom floor.
I press my hand to my mouth. Try to breathe. It doesn't help.
I carefully close the box, put it back exactly where I found it.
But before I can leave—
The bathroom door creaks.
Shit.
I spin around way too fast, heart in my throat.
And there he is—Zander—leaning casually in the doorway, looking unfairly good in just his sweatpants and damp hair.
But then—he really looks at me.
Sees my face. My too-red eyes. My uneven breathing.
In two long strides, he's in front of me. His hands cup my face, thumbs brushing gently under my eyes.
"You okay?" he asks, voice low and soft. Full of concern.
Shit.
"Yeah… I just… had something in my eye. Eyes." I say lamely.
He studies me for a second longer.
Then, unbelievably—he believes me.
Idiot.
He exhales. Presses a kiss to my forehead, still cradling my face like I'll break.
"You should be more careful," he murmurs.
I just nod dumbly. Smile a little.
Then he pulls me into his chest, wrapping both arms around me. Tight.
I press my cheek against him. Hear the steady beat of his heart.
And—something in me gives.
The words just fall out, breathless and true.
"I do," I blurt.
"Yes."
"I'll marry you."
He freezes.
I feel it instantly—the way his arms go still, the breath he sucks in.
My heart is thudding so loud, I can barely think.
Silence.
I peek up at him. His eyes are wide. His pupils blown.
"Zander?" I whisper.
It's like he's short-circuited. Oh no he's broken.
His mouth opens. Closes. Tries again.
"You—" He swallows hard. "You knew?"
I can't help the small smile. "You were… not the most discreet," I say softly.
He just stares at me, still looking completely shell-shocked. "I— I was going to ask— but— I wanted—" he stammers. Zander. Stammering.
I reach up and cup his cheeks again. Lean closer.
"Yes, idiot," I murmur against his lips.
And then—he drops.Just crumples to a squat right there, head in his hands, groaning.
"Zander??" I blink, startled.
He groans louder. "You— do you know— how many months— I've been trying—"
He tips his head back, eyes toward the ceiling like it betrayed him.
I can't stop myself—I laugh softly. My chest is so full I feel like I'll float away.
I kneel in front of him and tug his hands away.
"Hey. Look at me."
He does—eyes still wide, cheeks flushed.
"I'm saying yes," I whisper. "I love you. And I'm saying yes."
And finally—finally—his breath shudders out and a wide, helpless grin takes over his face.