"You will marry me?" A tear of relief slips from his cocoa-hued eyes.
Did he hear her right? 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.
"I'll marry you," she assures, nodding gently.
"You feel like a dream," he breathes out.
Neva chuckles softly and cups his face, wiping away the tear stain with her thumb. She leans in and presses a tender 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.
Pulling away, Neva offers her left hand to him.
Rhett grins, takes the diamond ring from its velvet box, and gently slips it onto her finger.
Neva lifts her hand, marveling at the sparkling diamond. Her eyes twinkle.
The flower-shaped ring so beautiful—her heart is melting.
"Do you like it?" Rhett asks, studying her reaction.
"I love it," Neva exclaims, launching herself into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck.
"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.
Overcome, thawing in love, Rhett grabs her nape and crashes his lips onto her soft ones.
---
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 bites her lip, 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 a glare.
---
In the kitchen, Neva enters quickly.
Rhett's broad back greets her. He's still wearing her daisy-printed apron as he rinses the final dish.
"You're not done yet?" Neva asks, heading straight to the refrigerator.
"I'm done," he replies, placing the 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 to the door, annoyed by the insistent ringing. She doesn't check the peephole—just opens it.
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.
The reality is jarring.
Neva notices his hair being longer, tied back in a bun—unlike when he left.
His clothes are different too.
"Neva," he whispers, 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 surges like the tides.
He clenches his fists, fighting to hold back the animal in him.
Fighting to not just pull her into his arms and frighten Neva.
His Neva... who's a heaven incarnate.
Her brows knit. "Is something wrong?"
The joy in her eyes fades. Something about him feels… wrong.
And… his voice, when he speaks, sounds just slightly off.
Then it hits her—this isn't Rhett.
There's definitely something offshore about him.
"Do I know you? Have we met before?" she asks, uneasy now.
He swallows hard, struggling to understand why she's treating him like a stranger.
"Neva… It's me. Yours. Ishmael."
Her head tilts, confused. "Mine?"
Alarmed, Neva dashes inside, leaving the door wide open.
She grabs her phone from the couch and calls Rhett.
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 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,"
But before Neva can respond, footsteps thunder down the foyer and into the living room.
Rushing. Fast.
A hand grabs her.
Her phone slips from her fingers and crashes to the floor.
The screen flickers once—then goes dark—as the man pulls her into his arms.