His teary eyes meet her glistening ones.
"You're… marrying me..." A tear slips free from his cocoa-hued gaze.
Did he truly hear her? It's hard to believe it's not just an illusion.
He fears that it's only his mind playing tricks, whispering back his unrequited yearning.
But Neva nods, a gentle smile lifting her lips.
"I'm marrying you," she whispers again, assuring.
"You feel like a dream," he breathes out.
She chuckles softly, her fingers tender as they cup his face, wiping away the warm streak of his tear. Leaning in, she presses a kiss to his forehead.
Rhett wraps his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder.
"I love you, Angel," he whispers, tightening his arms around her, holding her close as her steady heartbeat lulls him into calm.
"I love you too," she murmurs back.
She pulls away just enough and lifts her left hand to him—quietly, simply.
Rhett grins, takes the diamond ring from its velvet box, and gently slips it onto her finger.
The petals of the delicate bloom catch the light.
Neva lifts her hand, marveling at the sparkling diamond. Her eyes twinkle.
Her heart thaws—the flower-shaped ring so beautiful.
"Do you like it?" Rhett asks, watching her closely.
"I love it," Neva exclaims, launching herself into his arms.
"Easy there," he laughs, catching her with a hand to her back.
She pulls away, just enough to meet his eyes, giggling.
"I'm your fiancée," she beams, as though she can't believe it.
Overcome, thawing in love, Rhett grabs her nape and crashes his lips onto her soft ones.
Slow and reverent, fierce with love.
A sacred kiss—kiss that seals forever.
---
Christmas Eve has fallen into its twilight hush.
"I still can't believe it!" Emma exclaims, dramatically flailing her arms.
She's nestled beneath the kotatsu table, facing Neva across it.
"Me too," Neva murmurs, her gaze wandering into the quiet depths of thought.
Dinner had been delicious. The girls are resting while the boys clean up.
Neva had initially refused help from the guests, but Zedd—Rhett's employee at the car service garage and Emma's boyfriend—insisted politely.
"So you'll be a bride by March?" Emma asks, leaning closer, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Neva props her elbows on the wooden edge of the warm table, palms cradling her cheeks.
"Why would you think that?" she arches a brow.
"Because your birthday's March first?" Emma counters, mirroring her pose.
"We're pacing like a peregrine falcon," Neva chuckles, shaking her head.
Emma sighs. "I'm really happy for you, but... it's just weird," she says, frowning.
"I mean, darling, you've been together for less than three months!"
Neva smiles, brushing strands of hair behind her ear. "I've found the right guy—the one meant for me. So why not marry him and make him completely mine?" she says with a soft shrug.
Emma blinks at her, visibly surprised at her bold, romantic conviction. "You've gotten braver with your heart," she nods, smiling with approval.
Heat rises in Neva's cheeks.
"Ooh, look at you all red," Emma giggles.
"Now I'm actually excited! Wedding shopping, double dates—it's going to be so much fun!" She gasps in glee, seizing Neva's hands and shaking them.
Neva only smiles, watching her friend's excitement with quiet amusement.
"So? What kind of destination wedding are you thinking of?" Emma asks, eyes sparkling.
Before Neva can answer, footsteps approach and a voice calls out, "Babe, let's go."
Neva glances up—Zedd is walking toward them.
"Now?" Emma asks, frowning.
"Stay a little longer. I'll get dessert." Neva stands and starts toward the kitchen.
"I really think we should head out," Zedd insists, his eyes pleading with Emma.
Neva pauses and turns. "At least try some of my homemade tiramisu. I'll be back in a minute," she says, disappearing inside the kitchen.
"Why in such a hurry, babe?" Emma presses, pretending not to notice Zedd's anxious look.
"Come on, sit," she pats the space beside her.
Zedd sighs and finally slides under the blanket beside her.
"You look scraped. What's wrong?" Emma asks, noticing his unease.
"You know how I get... always on edge around my boss.
Especially off the clock, I feel like one wrong word and I'm fired." He stares at the glittering Christmas tree, its ornaments—snowflakes, reindeer, glass balls—catching the light like quiet memories.
Emma cups his face and turns it toward her.
Seeing the distress written across his features, she bursts out laughing, earning herself a glare.
---
In the kitchen, Neva enters quickly.
Rhett's broad back greets her.
His sweater sleeves pushed to the elbows as he rinses the final dish, her daisy-printed apron still tied around him.
"You're not done yet?" Neva asks, heading straight to the refrigerator.
"I'm done," he replies, placing the last plate on the drying rack.
As Neva sets the tiramisu on the dining table, Rhett approaches from behind and wraps his arms around her waist, making her still.
"I'm sleepy, Angel," he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into her nape.
Neva squirms, giggling. "Rhett, that tickles!"
He chuckles, resting his chin on her shoulder, swaying them gently side to side.
"We can't sleep yet—it's only nine," she whispers, leaning into him. "And we still have guests."
"I don't care. Why don't they just leave?" he grumbles.
Neva gasps. "You can't say things like that! Didn't they help make today more memorable?"
"I don't think so," he mutters flatly.
"I just want to be under the covers…" His voice drops, low and raspy.
"…with you beneath me," he adds, biting her earlobe gently.
A chill of thrill races down Neva's spine despite the warm interior.
"You're crazy," she laughs, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.
Rhett only grins and holds her tighter.
Perhaps life is made for moments like this—lost in warmth, love, and quiet togetherness.
---
Saddening hearts, Christmas passes in the blink of an eye. Nevertheless, the joy it leaves behind lingers—a treasure for all seasons to come, until fate decides to gift another such merry occasion.
Now, Neva is alone in the apartment.
Rhett has been gone for about an hour, called away for an emergency at the car maintenance store.
It's always tough to manage it when he's away on his main duty, but his employees are trustworthy, maintaing the store quiet well, and the money is good.
A shrill doorbell breaks the peace, its echo unsettling.
Neva rushes out from her room, annoyed by the insistent ringing.
She reaches the door without even checking the peephole—and pulls it open.
Their eyes lock.
His breath away...
His heart away...
"Rhett?" Her voice carries a flicker of joy.
"Did you forget the passcode?" she asks, frowning in confusion as she looks up at him.
He had imagined countless ways this moment might unfold.
Countless ways he illusioned her response.
But never like this. He never could have read the pages to flip this way.
It's... jarring.
The reality arrives like a fracture in a dream.
Neva notices his hair is longer, tied back in a bun—unlike when he left.
He has gone to the store dressed casually, but now his clothes are different—more formal, all in black.
"Neva," he breathes, as though he can't believe she's real.
The winter wind swirls behind him, cold and biting, but he only winces at the storm within his chest.
His mind is a thunderstorm, his blood surging like the tides.
He clenches his fists, fighting to hold back the animal in him. Fighting to not just pull Neva into his arms and frighten her.
His Neva... who's a heaven incarnate.
Her brows knit. "Is something wrong?"
The joy in her eyes fades. Something about him feels… wrong.
Her eyes sharpens.
His eyes—they're dark. Too dark. And his voice…
Then it hits her—he isn't Rhett.
There's no light behind his gaze.
There's definitely something offshore about him.
"Do I know you?" she asks slowly, unease prickling under her skin.
His face falls—confusion and heartbreak flashing in his eyes.
He swallows hard, struggling to understand why she's treating him like a stranger. "Neva… It's me. Yours. Ishmael."
Her head tilts faintly, confused. "Mine?"
Alarm floods her.
She stumbles back.
And leaves the door open in panic, running inside.
Phone. Where's the phone?
She snatches her phone from the couch, fumbles with slightly trembling fingers, dials.
After two agonizingly long rings, he picks up. "Angel?"
The sound of his voice brings a wave of relief—yet dread over her.
"Rhett… where are you?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
"At the store. What's wrong?" His tone sharpens instantly.
"There's someone at the door," she says, glancing warily at the man still standing there—staring at her.
"Please come quickly."
"Who? Is the door locked? Stay inside—I'm on my way."
She hears him fumbling with something, keys maybe, and a metallic clink hits the ground.
"It's crazy... the man—he looks just like you," she says, her voice trembling.
Silence.
"Did you hear me? He looks exactly like you."
Rhett finally speaks, his tone urgent, shaken.
"Neva, listen to me. Don't talk to him. Go to the bedroom—now. There's a dagger in the left drawer. Take it. Protect yourself."
"Rhett, I'm scared," she says, her hands shaking as the andrenaline rush floods her veins.
"I'm coming. Stay with me. Don't hang up."
But before Neva can respond, footsteps thunder down the foyer and into the living room.
Rushing. Fast.
A hand grabs her shoulder.
Her phone slips from her hands, crashing on the floor.
The screen flickers once—then goes dark—as the man pulls her into his arms she doesn't know—yet... are terrifyingly familiar.