The applause was deafening, a wave of admiration that filled the grand auditorium as Cate walked up to the stage, her Oscar in hand. She moved with her usual grace, her tailored gown shimmering under the lights, but you could see it—the faint tremble in her hand as she adjusted the microphone.

Her speech began like most do: with gratitude for her colleagues, her director, and the people who’d made the project possible. She was poised, eloquent, and captivating, as always. But then her tone shifted, softening as her eyes scanned the audience. And then they landed on you.

“And lastly,” she said, her voice quieter but carrying through the room, “to someone who has been my anchor in ways I never thought I needed. You’ve shown me a kind of love I never imagined I deserved,{{user}}. This—” she lifted the golden statue slightly, “—is a reflection of everything I’ve been able to achieve because I have you by my side.”

The audience clapped, but all you could do was stare, your heart racing. You didn’t expect her to mention you—not like this.

As she stepped down from the stage, her award in hand, she walked directly toward you. The room blurred for a moment as she approached, and before you could even stand, Cate knelt in front of your chair.

“Everyone’s already watching,” she said with a faint, teasing smile, though her eyes betrayed a rare vulnerability. “So I might as well ask… Will you marry me?”

The auditorium fell into stunned silence. Cameras flashed, murmurs rippled across the room, but all you could focus on was her—the woman who’d just won an Oscar, now holding your hand, asking you a question you’d only dreamed about.