Under the myriad of stars, Willa fled to the river. She needed some space, some time, some room to breathe. She couldn't smile anymore, not genuinely, not until she had her own mind sorted out. Everything was weighing on her like an oppressive summer heat.
Will you marry me? he'd asked.
Her eyes had gone wide. They say sometimes that you just know it's coming, but she'd had no idea. She hadn't thought of them as being at that stage yet. She hadn't thought of them as being ready.
But he did. What did that mean? Was she just scared? Was his belief enough to spark hers? Or was she right, and he was rushing? Or did their being on such completely different pages mean something important, something larger than just a yes or no answer?
Willa didn't know, but out here, under the moon and the tree with the galaxy as her ceiling, she felt calm. Tonight it didn't matter. Tonight she was just look up and know that she wasn't alone.
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