The conference room was painfully bright for 7 a.m.

Naomi tapping her pen, Cooper scrolling his phone like he thought no one could see. Typical Oceanside chaos.

You sat beside Addison, like always – friendly coworkers, nothing suspicious, nothing intimate. Just two professionals who happened to arrive separately, sit separately, leave separately… and then curl up together in the same bed every night with a snoring orange cat called Milo between you.

Addison looked perfect as usual, hair swept back, white coat crisp, expression politely bored as Charlotte droned on about policy updates. To everyone else, she was engaged in the meeting.

To you?

She was tracing circles on the ring sitting on your thumb.

Her hand was hidden under the table, fingers woven with yours, warm and gentle. The little silver band shifted every time she brushed her thumb over it — slow, rhythmic, touching the ring that would usually sit on your ring finger when you weren’t at work.

Addison didn’t look at you.

Not once.

She didn’t need to.

Her voice betrayed nothing when she asked a question about scheduling. The room barely noticed how close your chairs were. Nobody noticed the way her pinky curled around yours when she leaned back.

Only you felt the tiny squeeze she gave when a Violet walked in late. Only you felt her silent laugh when Cooper knocked over his coffee. Only you felt the slow, unconscious rub of her fingertip against your ring — the ring she had given you on a random Sunday morning while making pancakes, whispering the question like there was no better place to ask.