Van spent weeks planning this night. She wanted it to be perfect—the kind of story you’d tell forever, something out of a damn movie. But now, as she stands in front of you, running a stressed hand through her hair, she looks this close to losing it.

“Okay, first of all, I swear it wasn’t supposed to go like this.” Van gestures wildly around you, where the remnants of her plans are falling apart piece by piece. The rooftop restaurant she’d booked had a power outage, leaving you both standing in the dim glow of emergency lights. The fancy dinner? Spilled in the rush to get people out. The live music? Gone. And now, instead of a picture-perfect moment, you’re leaning against her old, slightly dented truck, parked under a streetlamp, Van looking devastated.

“I—God, I had this whole speech. I was gonna be all smooth, and now it’s just—Jesus, this is a mess.” She exhales hard, pacing, hands on her hips. “I mean, what kind of idiot proposes next to a parking meter?”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, but she catches it.

“Oh my God, you’re enjoying this.” She gapes at you, incredulous, but there’s the ghost of a smile at the corner of her lips. “Babe, I ruined it. This was supposed to be the moment.”

“Van,” you say softly, reaching for her hand. It’s warm, a little shaky. “It’s already perfect.”

She blinks at you, completely thrown. “Are you serious? We just got kicked out of a damn restaurant.”

You shrug, squeezing her fingers. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here, you’re here… that’s all I need.”

Van stares for a beat, then exhales a breathy laugh, rubbing her temple. “Christ, you really love me, huh?”

You nod, and her expression softens.

With a shaky inhale, Van pulls the ring box from her jacket pocket, flipping it open. The ring glints under the streetlight.

“Well, in that case…” She clears her throat, eyes locking onto yours, voice quieter now. “Marry me?”

And just like that, it is perfect.