DAXTON POV
The pub hummed with a steady buzz of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and bursts of laughter. From the outside, I probably looked composed, the guy who always had a plan. Maria’s hand rested lightly in mine, her warmth anchoring me in the moment.
But inside? I was a mess.
My thoughts were tangled, a web of hopes, fears, and a nagging voice that whispered doubts I didn’t want to entertain. The idea of the apartment had seemed perfect when I’d first thought of it. I could already imagine it: lazy Sundays, Maria curled between us on the massive couch, her laughter filling the space as Henry teased her about stealing the blankets. But alongside those idyllic images came the weight of reality.
What if it was too much, too soon? What if Maria thought I was rushing thin
