Angel's POV
I don't know why I was nervous.
Maybe it was the way Mum kept peeking at me from the kitchen like she already knew what got my pants in a twist.
Or how Dad was reading the newspaper upside down and acting like he wasn't listening when I knew for sure he was listening.
And then there was Samuel—sitting beside me on the couch like the calmest man alive, when I knew for a fact his palms were sweating like a thief on judgment day.
"Mum, Dad," I began, eyes flicking between them, "I… uh… we wanted to tell you something."
"We?" Mum echoed, her eyes already narrowing with a knowing smile. That smile that says "You think I don't know? I birthed you."
Samuel cleared his throat and leaned forward slightly. "We're together. Officially."
Silence.
Then Mum blinked. "Oh? Just now?"
I frowned. "What do you mean 'just now'?"
She smiled even wider. "Suzan's been calling me every day like a teenage girl since y'all got back together."
Samuel groaned under his breath. "I told her to be subtle."
"You told your mum to be subtle?" I deadpanned. " After she told us to use protection after she knew?. You might as well have told a lion to purr like a kitten."
Mum chuckled and wiped her hands on a towel. "Well, I'm happy for you. Truly."
I breathed out a sigh of relief—
Until she added, with a look deadly serious:
"But Samuel... if you break my daughter's heart again—intentionally or unintentionally—I'll castrate you."
Samuel froze.
Blinked once.
Twice.
Mum smiled sweetly, like she hadn't just threatened his entire bloodline. "And don't think I'm joking. I was top of my anatomy class. Trust me."
Samuel looked at me, wide-eyed. "All the women in this family are dangerous" his expression screamed. Can't say it was lie though, we can be indeed dangerous when needed.
And just when he thought he'd survived— Dad folded his newspaper (the right way this time) and said calmly, "I'm sure you're a good young man, Samuel. But if I so much as see one tear on my daughter's face that you caused..."
He didn't finish. He didn't need to.
He just looked at Samuel. The same way God probably looked at Pharaoh before the plagues started.
Samuel nodded slowly. "Understood, sir."
---
Later, after surviving what might have been a trial by fire disguised as a family dinner, we sat outside on the porch. The air smelled like rain and roasted corn from the neighbor's compound.
"You okay?" I asked.
"I just got threatened by both your parents in the span of ten minutes," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "Your mum casually discussed my future castration. Your dad basically summoned the wrath of heaven. And you're asking if I'm okay?"
I smirked. "Could've been worse."
He turned to me then, eyes softening. "I meant every word I said in there, Angel."
I looked up at him.
He reached for my hand. "I want to be with you. For a lifetime."
My brain short-circuited. "A lifetime?" I echoed, internally screaming.
He nodded, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Yeah. I'm not saying let's rush it. But I'm saying I see that with you. I want that with you."
My cheeks flushed so hard I could feel the heat in my ears.
"Don't look at me like that," I mumbled, eyes darting to the floor.
He leaned closer. "Like what?"
"Like you just made me fall in love with you again."
He smiled, kissed my forehead. "Good. I plan to keep doing that."
I melted. Right there on the spot. A puddle of mush and hormones.
And for the first time in forever, I wasn't scared of what came next.
---
Samuel's POV.
I'd been planning it for weeks.
Every time she laughed. Every time she touched my hand in that absent-minded way. Every time she gave me that look—the one that said "I'm trying to stay mad at you but you're also the only idiot I want to kiss right now."
That's when I knew.
I didn't just want to be in love with Angel.
I wanted to build with her.
Grow with her.
Mess up, make up, and wake up next to her for the rest of my life.
So yeah. I planned it.
Not the over-the-top kind with fireworks and a flash mob—though God knows I considered it. But something real. Something hers.
A quiet, beautiful evening on the hilltop we'd gone to once before.
The same place where she'd let me hold her like she wasn't afraid of the future anymore.
---
"Why are we going up there again?" she asked as we walked hand in hand, a picnic basket bumping against her thigh.
"Because," I said, grinning, "I remembered how you once said you like the way the wind feels up here. And because I like seeing you in nature—less chance of you throwing your slipper at me and missing."
She snorted. "You're lucky I didn't bring it."
The hill was quiet, the city lights flickering far below like stars had fallen and settled on rooftops.
We spread a blanket on the grass. I lit two lanterns and set the food down.
Angel kicked off her shoes and stretched, the wind teasing her curls.
And I couldn't stop staring.
"You're being weird," she muttered, chewing on a strawberry. "Stop looking at me like that."
"Can't help it," I said, voice low. "I'm in love with you."
She paused mid-bite. "Samuel…"
"I mean it. You—you drive me insane. But you've also saved me in ways I don't think you even realize. I was a mess before you. And I'm still figuring things out. But you make me want to be better. You make me want… everything."
She looked at me, and this time she didn't speak.
So I stood up.
Walked around the blanket.
And dropped to one knee.
Her eyes widened as realization set in. "What are you—Samuel, oh my God—"
I pulled out the ring.
Not flashy. Not huge. Just simple and elegant, with a tiny sapphire because she once told me blue was the color of calm.
My hands shook.
"I didn't bring you here to impress you. I brought you here because this place reminds me of us. Quiet. Unexpected. Beautiful even when messy. I don't want to wait anymore, Angel. I've wasted enough time being afraid, being stupid, pushing you away when all I ever wanted was to pull you closer."
She covered her mouth with both hands, eyes already wet.
I smiled.
"I want to build a life with you. Cry with you. Laugh with you. Make breakfast with you in our kitchen and dance with you at 2 am in our living room. I want to fight over the remote and watch you roll your eyes at my playlist. I want you—bad days, good days, days we barely speak, days we can't stop touching."
I held out the ring.
"Angel… will you marry me?"
---
Angel's POV
---
I'd prepared myself for many things in life.
Breakups. Disappointments. Healing. Pain. Closure.
But I had not, in any galaxy of my imagination, prepared myself for this man kneeling in front of me on our hilltop, looking at me like I held the universe in my hands.
"Say something," he whispered, smiling nervously.
I was crying. Great. Just what I needed—tears and snot at a proposal.
I knelt down with him. Didn't speak. Just kissed him like he was the only answer I'd ever known.
When I finally pulled away, I whispered, "Yes."
Then louder, "Yes, Samuel."
He let out a shaky laugh, slipped the ring onto my finger, and then we were both laughing, crying, kissing, rolling halfway onto the picnic blanket like two drunk idiots.
"I can't believe I'm gonna be your wife," I whispered.
He kissed my hand. "Better believe it, babe. "