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That touch, calm and steady, helped soothe some of my worries. “We’ve had so many changes lately, and we’re all running on adrenaline. I want to marry you, but I can’t say yes today.”

Dave stood quietly, taking in the moment. Time seemed to stretch between us, each heartbeat a tug of emotions in both directions.

“It was a bad time to propose,” he admitted, rubbing his nose against mine. “I let my emotions take control.” The self-deprecating laugh in his voice made me tighten my arms around him.

“I’m glad you did. There’s nothing wrong with getting caught up in the moment. I want to say yes, Dave. I love you, and I’ll always love you.” I ran my fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp gently. “But when I say yes, it will be after we’ve dealt with the mess I’ve made of our relationship.” I forced a small smile.

Dave shook his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. We’re in this together, always.”

Just then, Cole and Evan  came out onto the porch. “So, no wedding then?” Cole asked.

Dave let go of me, the space between us now filled with the weight of my decision. “No. We’re not getting married. Becca  doesn’t believe I’m sincere.”

I wanted to say, “Not yet,” but I knew that if they needed that reassurance, we had bigger issues than I realized.

Cole and Evan  exchanged quiet looks, their expressions unreadable.

Rubbing my temples to ward off the growing headache, I spoke up. “I’d like to go home.”

Back inside, Dad and Carrie were waiting. I hugged them both tightly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Carrie rocked me gently, just like when I was younger. “Call me when you have your next appointment. I want to know everything.” Her voice softened. “We’re here for you. Always.”

I wasn’t sure if it was meant as a warning, but I was too tired to read into it. Cole, Dave, and Evan  kept their distance from my parents as we left. The drive home was quiet, the weight of everything between us felt heavier than ever. By the time we reached my apartment, my headache had turned into a full-on migraine, pounding through my skull.

Dave turned off the engine, and Cole helped me out of the car. Evan  unlocked the door ahead of us. They worked together with a kind of quiet efficiency, taking care of everything without saying a word.

Stepping into the calm of my home, the soft lighting and quietness offered me some relief.

Dave’s voice came from near the kitchen. “What do you need?”

Despite the tension, his care for me was clear. They all cared, even if I’d pushed them away by turning down Dave’s proposal. I just hoped that, once everything settled, they’d understand why I couldn’t say yes—not yet.

“Water, please. And painkillers are in the cabinet,” I said, slumping onto the couch, cradling my aching head in my hands. “It’s better now, just… keep the lights off a bit longer.”

Evan  and Cole hovered in front of me, their concern obvious. Cole was the first to move. “I’ll feed Falcon.”

At the sound of his name, Falcon barked from down the hall. I squinted into the darkness toward my bedroom. “Falcon, what’s going on?”

Another bark echoed back, followed by a muffled thud. Clearly, he’d been on my bed, probably having a nap. A few clicks of claws, and Falcon trotted down the hall, not from my bedroom, but from my office. To my surprise, he was carrying a stack of papers, carefully holding them in his teeth with his head tilted back to avoid stepping on them.

“Falcon,” I groaned, “If you’ve chewed up my homework, you’re going to have to explain it to my professors.” I tried to make light of the situation, but the sudden movement sent a sharp pain across my forehead.

Unfazed, Falcon dropped the papers at Evan ’s feet.

“I really need to talk to Silvy about teaching you some better tricks,” I said, taking the water and painkillers from Dave. “What did he ruin this time?”

Evan  bent over to inspect the papers, and I couldn’t help but notice how his movements made my pulse quicken. Damn it, my headache should’ve been my only focus right now, but the tension between us was still too thick to ignore.

He straightened up and moved toward the window, holding the papers toward the dim light filtering through the blinds. “Looks like a chapter from a book,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing. “And my name’s on it.”

A chill ran down my spine. The pounding in my head faded instantly as realization hit. Falcon had brought Evan  the manuscript—my book, the one with Evan  as the lead character. Why had I printed it out? I had wanted to do a manual read-through for typos, but now it seemed like a huge mistake. In a world of digital convenience, why had I gone the old-school route?