Hailey’s POV
The morning light filters through the lace curtains of the lake house bedroom, soft and golden, painting stripes across the white duvet. I wake slowly, the kind of slow where every breath feels deliberate, like I’m savoring the last quiet moment before the world rushes in. Roy’s arm is heavy across my waist, his face buried in the crook of my neck, breath warm and steady against my skin. He’s still asleep—deep, peaceful sleep—the way only he can manage the night before something huge.
Today is the day.
I slip out from under his arm carefully, not wanting to wake him yet. My bare feet touch the cool hardwood floor. The ring on my left hand catches the light—simple, sparkling, real—and I pause just to look at it. To feel the weight of it. To remember every second that led her
