Months later, the pen still sat between us like the strangest beginning in history.
By then, Sebastian no longer flinched every time I reached for it. Mostly.
He had developed a level of endurance that the comments seemed deeply proud of.
Character growth.
Look at him now.
Still weak for her, though.
That part never changed.
One Friday evening, I arrived at his office after most of the staff had gone home. He was finishing a call, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, looking unfairly perfect under the low amber lights.
He ended the call and looked up.
The severity in his face disappeared the second he saw me.
“You’re early.”
“I missed you.”
Those three words still had the power to undo him.
I could tell by the way his gaze softened instantly.
He held out a hand.
“Come here.”
I did.
He drew me in until I was standing between his knees, one of his hands resting lightly at my back.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I noticed something on his desk.
A small rectangular box.
I looked down at it, then back at him.
“What’s that?”
His expression shifted into something almost nervous.
Which made my heart start beating faster.
“Open it,” he said.
I laughed under my breath.
“Sebastian Cole, if this is another pen, I’m leaving.”
It wasn’t.
Inside the box was a simple ring.
Not extravagant.
Not oversized.
Just beautiful.
I looked up too quickly.
His voice was steadier than his eyes.
“I know this may be faster than some people would choose,” he said, “but I have spent a very long time wanting things I did not let myself ask for. I don’t want to do that with you anymore.”
The comments exploded into complete chaos.
It’s happening.
About time.
I think even I forgot how to breathe.
He kept going.
“You don’t have to answer tonight. You don’t have to answer this week. But Emily, I love you. And if there comes a day when you want the rest of your life tied to mine, I will spend every day of it making sure you never regret it.”
My eyes stung so suddenly I had to laugh to keep from crying.
He saw that and started to look alarmed.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Was this too much?”
I shook my head.
Then I touched the ring with trembling fingers.
“No,” I whispered. “It’s just very you.”
Something hopeful broke across his face.
“So that’s… not a no?”
I looked at him.
At the man who had loved me quietly, foolishly, wholeheartedly.
At the man who had once hidden behind a magical fountain pen because honesty felt too dangerous, and who now sat in front of me offering me the simplest, bravest truth he had.
I smiled through the blur in my eyes.
“It’s a yes,” I said.
He closed his eyes for one brief second like the answer hit harder than he was prepared for.
Then he stood up, slid the ring onto my finger, and kissed me with a tenderness that made the whole office, the whole city, the whole ridiculous story disappear.
When we finally pulled apart, I leaned against him and laughed softly.
“So,” I said, glancing toward the old velvet tray where the dark blue pen still rested, “what happens to that now?”
He looked over my shoulder and smiled.
“We keep it,” he said. “As evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
His arms tightened around me.
“That sometimes,” he murmured, “even the most unreasonable beginning can lead to exactly the right ending.”
The comments drifted one last time across my vision, softer than ever.
Worth it.
Every bit of it.
And for once, I agreed completely.