Dinner ends in soft laughter and easy conversation. Being with Caden is effortless—like breathing. He makes me laugh, makes me feel seen, makes me forget the world outside this tiny bubble we’ve slipped into.
As the butler clears our plates, he leaves one behind: a small chocolate cake drizzled with warm sauces, two silver spoons nestled on the side. We eat together slowly, stealing bites and teasing each other, until I lean back with a full stomach and a quiet smile.
Then Caden stands and moves to me, gently turning my chair to face him. I blink up at him, curious—until he lowers to one knee.
Everything stills.
His hands tremble slightly, his eyes locked on mine. My heart beats out of rhythm as tears gather.
“Baylee,” he says softly, “I always planned to do this on your eighteenth bi
