Chapter Forty-one: Threads & Rings
(Ria's POV)
I could hardly stop staring at my hand. The ring glinted in the sunlight streaming through the living room window, a delicate band with a single, sparkling stone that somehow felt so me — elegant, bold, and entirely personal. Miles grinned beside me, obviously pleased with himself.
"Do you like it?" he asked, leaning close, his thumb brushing over the ring.
"I… I love it," I whispered, still staring. My chest fluttered with a mixture of disbelief and joy. "Miles… it's perfect. How did you…?"
"I have my ways," he said, smirking. "I knew it had to be special. Like you."
I rolled my eyes, laughing through the tears threatening to spill. "You're ridiculous. And possessive. And… I love all of it."
Wedding planning had begun in full force. Miles and I had decided: half the events in Bangladesh, where my family could celebrate tradition, and half in Aldridge, so his friends, his mom, and everyone from school could be involved.
Maya bounced around with a notebook full of ideas. "Threads, for the Aldridge party, we could have a rooftop reception! Fairy lights, live music, the works!"
Emma rolled her eyes playfully. "And half the world will be invited, obviously. Why not?"
Lia, arms crossed, shaking her head but smiling, added, "I swear, if you two don't slow down, you'll give yourself stress hives before the big day."
Miles, leaning casually in the doorway, grinned. "Stress hives? Not while I'm around. I'll handle her. My Threads comes first."
I rolled my eyes again, laughing. "Your Threads, huh? You'll never let me live that down."
"Never," he said, brushing my hair back. "It's mine. Forever."
Planning in Bangladesh had its chaos. Aunties debated over colors, flowers, menus. My mom wanted something traditional, my father had opinions about everything from the seating arrangements to the music. Sofia ran around, insisting on helping with everything, from flower selection to ribbon tying.
"I want pink flowers!" she insisted, waving her tiny arms dramatically. "And cupcakes! Lots of cupcakes!"
Miles bent down to scoop her up, smiling. "Only if you promise to help me with the dance practice, Princess."
"I will!" she squealed, and I couldn't stop laughing.
Back in Aldridge, planning was more modern, playful, and hectic in a completely different way. Miles wanted a rooftop party with string lights, jazz music, and a small firework display. I was obsessing over menus — dessert tables, cake flavors, and my dress for the event.
Maya and Emma were a whirlwind of opinions. "Rooftop jazz night? Threads, that's so you!" Maya gushed.
Emma smirked. "And he's totally going to make a speech. Mark my words. Heart-melting speech incoming."
I groaned. "Do I have to be there for the speech rehearsal?"
Miles grabbed my hand. "Absolutely. And afterwards… maybe we sneak off for a quiet moment. Just us."
I felt my stomach flip. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"And yet you love me," he said, grinning, leaning closer to press a soft kiss to my temple.
Hours passed in a blur of discussions, fittings, flower arrangements, and menu tastings. Miles handled my parents with charm and patience, navigating cultural expectations with ease, while I was grateful for every reassuring squeeze of his hand, every protective glance.
The engagement ring caught sunlight on my hand again, sparkling like the first day I'd seen it, a reminder that no matter the chaos, no matter the stress, no matter the plans or cultural demands, Miles had chosen me. And I had chosen him.
That night, after a long day of calls, emails, and planning sessions, we sat on the balcony of our Aldridge apartment. The city lights twinkled below, a reflection of the chaos and beauty of the past few weeks.
Miles held my hand, thumb brushing over the ring once more. "So, Threads, think we can survive the wedding planning without losing our minds?"
I laughed softly. "If we survive it together, I think we can survive anything."
He leaned closer, brushing his lips against mine in a slow, lingering kiss. "Forever, Threads. Always."
And for a moment, I believed it.