Rebel Boy. Part 2: Life with Rebel Girl

Coming out of the bathroom, still warmed by steam and Max’s embrace, I reach for a towel. I open one of the cabinets in search of it — the very one that is almost always closed, as if it keeps something personal, intimate. And suddenly… I notice a small box in the corner. Black, matte, almost velvety to the touch. I carefully take it into my hands — it is light, yet at the same time as if it holds inside something weighty, important, almost sacred. I open it and freeze. Inside lies a ring — simple, elegant, but carrying that restrained beauty that speaks louder than words. The subtle shine of the metal, the gentle curve, a tiny sparkling stone, like a drop of morning dew that has absorbed sunlight. It does not scream for attention, it is not showy — but in this ring there is love. Quiet, mature, real. A wedding ring? My mind refuses to believe it, but my heart already knows. A million thoughts rush through my head. When did he buy it? Why didn’t he say anything? Why did he hide it? Or… is he preparing? Waiting for the right moment? I sit down on the edge of the bed, still holding the box in my hands like something fragile, sacred. My lips tremble with an uncertain smile. I feel like a girl who has suddenly been entrusted with something great — to look into someone’s soul. Or… into someone’s dream. Does Maxim want me to be his wife?