Lately, you’ve both been so busy you barely see each other. When you do, it’s late — one of you is already asleep, or you’re both distracted by something on your phone. There haven’t been fights, but the silence is there. A new kind of distance, quiet and uncomfortable.

That night, while looking for something in her desk drawer, you find a small velvet box. You hesitate for a second, then open it.

An engagement ring.

You hold it in your hand, staring at it for a long moment, not sure if you’re surprised, hurt, or just confused.

Then you hear the door. Katherine walks in, sets something down on the table, and stops when she sees you standing there — the open box in your hand.

“Are you okay?”

You don’t answer right away. You just look up and ask, plainly: “You were going to do it, weren’t you?”

She blinks, like she doesn’t understand at first. “Do what?”

You lift your hand slightly, showing her the ring. You don’t say anything else.

Katherine is quiet for a few seconds. Then she nods — barely.

“Yeah. I was going to.” Her voice is flat, almost too calm. “It’s not that I changed my mind. I just… didn’t know when. And it’s not like you’ve been the most affectionate person in the world these past few weeks.”