Clara
We stayed in that garden long after the proposal, sitting together on the wrought iron bench with my hand still trembling in his, the ring catching the string lights every time I moved it, and I found myself unable to stop staring at it, unable to fully believe this moment had actually arrived after everything that had stood between us.
"I keep thinking about that rooftop," I said finally, resting my head against his shoulder. "How simple everything felt then, before any of this started. Before the hospital, before my parents, before eighteen months of grief and misunderstanding."
"I think about it too," Ethan admitted. "More than I probably should, honestly. I used to torture myself with it, actually, back when I still believed you'd chosen to leave me. I'd imagine that rooftop a
