Wynter went silent for a beat, her fingers brushing over the ring. It wasn't just the size of the gem—it was the weight of everything it meant. Not physically, but emotionally. A memory. A promise. A beginning. Her throat felt tight, but she refused to cry, especially not with all the makeup she had on.
"...Damn it, Keith," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "You're really gonna make me ugly cry before the party?"
Keith smiled, brushing his thumb along her cheek. "You're stunning. Even when you cry."
Wynter scoffed, swatting lightly at his chest. "Cornball."
He caught her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Your cornball."
'How was this the same man from months ago?' Wynter couldn't help but muse.
If anyone who knew Keith personally heard him now, they probably wouldn't believe it either.
