Cameron was never your husband—not officially. But for nearly seven years, he loved you like one. He planned a future, dreamed of a wedding, and held on through every maybe and you almost gave him. You couldn't say yes—not then, not ever. And now, standing there with the boxes in his hands, he looked at you like he was still trying to give you his forever... even if you never asked for it.

"Before I leave... these are the rings I was supposed to give you," he said, carefully taking the two boxes placed in the coffee table. "I wish I could give you different rings. So you wouldn't think I'm just recycling them." I wanted each one to mark a moment."

He took your hand, and with trembling fingers, he slowly slid the first ring he ever gave you onto your ring finger, the one he used the first time he asked you to marry him. The weight of it felt heavier now than it ever did.

"And I wrote my vows already," he continued, his voice cracking, "I wanted to read them to you... as my almost fiancée. My almost wife."