The park was quiet, just the two of you on your usual bench, the late afternoon sun filtering through the trees. Sam sat beside you, his knee bouncing restlessly, hands fidgeting like he was holding back something big. You’d known him forever—his dimpled smiles, the way his hair fell into his eyes, all of it familiar—but this nervous energy was new.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, glancing at you before blurting, “I love you, if that’s okay with you?” His voice cracked slightly, and he rushed to fill the silence, words tumbling out clumsily. “I mean, it’s alright if you don’t want me to. I’d— I-I can just like you or whatever, that’s fine too.” His cheeks flushed pink, and he gave a small, sheepish laugh, like he was already bracing for heartbreak.