Page 88 of Rhys: and the girl who was always his

I study him for a beat—his sleepy eyes, the curve of his smirk, the slight crack in his cool exterior. And then I answer honestly. “I used to think about it when I was younger. I had this stupid Pinterest board with colour palettes and dress styles and everything.” Before he shattered my heart, and I swore off anything serious.

His eyes light up. “You did not."

"I did. It was peak cringe.”

He laughs, and it’s beautiful. But there’s something softer behind it. Something real.

“But lately…,” I admit, quieter now. “I’ve been too busy just trying to figure out life. Marriage feels like this far-off fantasy for people who have their shit together.”

“Yeah. Same,” he says, like he’s been waiting for me to say it.

“Then why’d you ask?”

His thumb strokes along my side again, dipping just under the fabric of my shirt and brushing skin. My breath catches.

“Because I think about it sometimes,” he says.

My heart stumbles. Not in fear—just…awareness. Of what he’s saying. Of what itmeans.

“Oh?”

He smirks at the look on my face. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“Rhys Gilmore, thinking about marriage?” I tease. “What’s next? You start crying at rom-coms?”

“I said,thinkingabout it. Not rushing out to buy a ring.” He leans closer, his nose brushing mine. “But yeah… I could see it. One day.”

My heart pounds. My body’s still pressed against his, but something about the moment makes me feel suddenly exposed.

“With me?” my voice drops low, unsure if I want the answer or if I alreadyknowit.

He exhales, his hand slipping a little higher up my side, sending a ripple of heat through me. “Obviously with you.”

Somethingmeltsinside me.

In an instant, the fear was gone.

“You’re terrible at romance, you know that?” I murmur softly.

He grins. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“I know.” I shift up so our foreheads touch. “You really see that for us?”

He doesn’t even blink. “Yeah. I do.”

And somehow, in the midst of an action movie, mismatched socks, and messy hair, he’s just told me he wants forever.

I don’t say anything else. I just curl tighter into him, letting his warmth bleed into me. The quiet between us isn’t empty anymore. Itbuzzes. Charged with something deeper. Something neither of us is saying out loud.

Rhys lifts my hand and plays with my fingers, his touch featherlight. Then he presses his lips to my knuckles, slow and deliberate.

“I mean, think about it. You’d get to keep all my hoodiesofficially.”

I snort. “Oh, wow. What a deal.”

“And I’d get to annoy you forever. Legally.”

“You already do that,” I tease. I love that we can have these open and honest conversations now. Lately, something's shifted inside me, and I'm choosing not to analyse it too much, just allowing myself to be in the moment with him.

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