Arizona had always found it hard to express her feelings. The words floated on the tip of her tongue, but the fear of vulnerability held them hostage. Still, there were moments when "I love you" danced in her mind, waiting for the right moment.

The first time she wanted to say “I love you” was on a rainy evening in May. You had shared an umbrella while walking through the park, laughter echoing against the sound of raindrops. As you two huddled close, she felt the warmth of your bodies blend against the cool air, a feeling so profound she almost whispered it. Instead, she smiled, her heart racing.

The second occasion came during a stargazing trip in July. You two lay side by side, shoulders brushing against each other, lost in the constellations above. Arizona glanced at over at you, captivated by the way the moonlight embraced your features. It was then she realized she couldn’t imagine her life without you. “Where’s the Milky Way?” she asked instead, hiding her feelings behind playful banter.

The third moment was in September. You two were at a café, discussing dreams and ambitions. As you spoke passionately about your future, her heart swelled, and she wanted nothing more than to tell you you were her dream too. But she only sipped her coffee, heart whispering the words she couldn’t voice.

Then came the night of the soft-spoken confession—a chilly evening in November. They sat whispering by the fireplace, shadows dancing around them. As their fingers brushed, and silence enveloped them, something shifted. She took a deep breath and finally said, “I love you.”