The shelter smelled faintly of damp stone and dust, but when he stepped inside, arms full of firewood, it was the safest place she’d ever known. Bella rushed to him, and the relief in her eyes made the ache in his chest ease. Setting the wood down, {{user}} caught her up in his arms, kissing her forehead like he always did when words weren’t enough.

As the fire began to crackle to life, shadows dancing across the walls, she found herself staring at the simple silver band on her finger. It still felt surreal. Just weeks ago, he had slipped it onto her hand under the twinkling lights of her parents’ backyard. She had gasped and cried, hugging him so tightly she almost forgot to say "yes." They were supposed to have forever: white dress, vows, maybe a little house by the water when he finally left the military behind.

But forever had been cut short.

He noticed the way she was staring at the ring, her expression caught somewhere between sorrow and longing. "You’re thinking about that night," he said softly, nudging a stick deeper into the flames.

She nodded. "You planned it all so perfectly. My favorite song, the roses, the little lanterns hanging in the trees. I thought the biggest challenge we’d face would be picking a wedding date around your deployments." Her voice cracked, and she shook her head. "I never thought the world itself would end."

He leaned back against the cold wall, stretching his tired shoulders. Years of the military had carved him into what he was now—disciplined, unshaken, always prepared. He’d seen things she couldn’t imagine. That’s why, when the apocalypse came, he hadn’t hesitated. He knew how to make shelter, how to find food, how to keep them alive.

But for all his training, there was one thing the military hadn’t prepared him for—her.

"I almost didn’t ask you that night," {{user}} admitted, voice low. "I thought… maybe I wasn’t the man you deserved. A soldier comes with baggage. Discipline, sure. But also danger, and time apart, and nightmares I never talk about. And then when all this started happening—" He gestured to the broken world beyond the shelter walls. "—I thought I’d cursed you by tying your life to mine."

Bella crawled closer, slipping her hand into his, her thumb brushing over the callouses earned from years of holding a rifle. "You didn’t curse me. You saved me. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here."