Page 160 of His To Ruin

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“Yes,” I whispered, then louder, laughing through tears. “Yes. Obviously, yes.”

He slid the ring onto my finger. Simple. Elegant. Perfect. Like everything he chose when he meant it.

We held each other in the quiet of that room where our love had been written onto walls like truth.

I smiled into his chest.

I had come to Paris to learn how to see.

I had learned how to be seen.

And now, I was choosing to stay.

Not because I was afraid to leave.

But because love, when it is real, doesn’t ask you to be smaller.

It asks you to be brave enough to build something that lasts.

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