ENCHANTED

One Month LaterMarch 14th; 2025Taylor Swift's Point of ViewSunlight spears through the gap in the curtains, painting a vibrant stripe across Travis's cheek. I peek open one eye, the other still clinging to the remnants of sleep. We're facing each other, tangled in the sheets, a silent conversation already flowing between us. Six months, give or take a heartbreak. Six months that have been a whirlwind of emotions – the purest joy intertwined with the most gut-wrenching pain. It's a lesson I'm learning the hard way – that kind of fierce, all-consuming love can be the source of both the most incredible highs and the most devastating lows.

The miscarriage feels like a lifetime ago, yet the memory lingers like a phantom limb. It brought us closer, undeniably. We were all we had, two souls clinging to each other in the face of a shared grief. I wouldn't say I'm "over" it, not entirely. It doesn't cripple me anymore, doesn't steal my breath every waking moment. But it's there, a constant ache in the back of my mind. A pang for the future we envisioned, a future ripped away before it even began. Joy, my sweet, goofy girl, is a constant reminder of the need to move forward, to find the strength to carry on. For her, for myself.

So I did. I moved on. Not past it, not yet, but forward nonetheless. And here I am, nestled in bed with the man I love, choosing to focus on the warmth of his presence instead of the chilling emptiness that threatened to consume me.

Travis's morning voice washes over me, a low rumble that vibrates through my chest. He murmurs a greeting, "Good morning, beautiful," and I can't help the soft smile that spreads across my face. His eyes meet mine, and a shiver runs down my spine.

"You look like you slept like a rock," he teases, but there's a warmth in his gaze that makes me feel anything but sleepy.

"Says the man who sounds like a bear impersonator competition all night," I counter with a playful chuckle.

"Hey!" he feigns offense, swatting playfully at my arm. "It was one tiny snore, and for your information, you're the real culprit here. Every. Single. Night."

I scoff, rolling my eyes in mock seriousness. "Hey! I do not snore that bad!"

His lips quirk up into a smile. "Don't worry, it's endearing."

A comfortable silence settles between us, broken only by the gentle chirping of birdsong outside. We sit there, companionably, and for a moment, the world seems to shrink to the space we occupy.

Then, Travis speaks, his voice turning serious. "You know," he says, "I wouldn't mind hearing that endearing snore every night for the rest of our lives."

My breath catches. It's not the first time he's hinted at forever, but the words still send a jolt through me. "That sounds..." I finally manage, my voice barely above a whisper, "really nice."

A shy smile graces my lips as he reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sends a spark sizzling through me, his thumb brushing against my cheek.

"Nice?" he chuckles, a playful glint in his eyes. "I was hoping for something a bit more enthusiastic."

"It's a large preposition!" I blurt out, feeling a nervous flutter in my stomach. "Forever is a long time."

He throws his head back and laughs, a rich, full sound that washes over me. The sound is so genuine, so Travis, that a smile naturally blooms on my face.

"Okay, okay," he concedes, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Large preposition, I get it. But you gotta admit, it does have a certain ring to it, doesn't it? 'Us, forever.'"

I nod slowly, a blush creeping up my neck. "It does," I admit, the word catching in my throat. The weight of it, the endless possibility, both terrifies and excites me.

He lays back a little, studying my face. "So, what do you say?" His eyes are soft, searching mine.  "Are you in for a lifetime of endearing snores and questionable morning breath?"

A snort, half playful, half surprised, escapes my lips. The idea of a lifetime with Travis, with all his little quirks and imperfections, brings a wave of pure joy washing over me. "Only if you promise to be here for Joy forever," I counter, my voice thick with emotion.

His grin widens, a devilish glint sparkling in his eyes that both thrills and terrifies me. "Deal," he declares, his voice husky with unspoken promises.  "Consider this the start of our happily ever after."

In a voice barely above a whisper, barely audible even to my own ears, I murmur, "So... what do we do now?" The question hangs in the air, a fragile thread connecting my dreams to reality.

Travis reaches out and takes my left hand in his. His thumb begins a slow, sensual caress over my ring finger, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my heart. "Marry me," he says simply, his voice firm yet laced with a tremor that mirrors my own racing pulse.

My breath catches in my throat. My eyes fly open, wide with surprise and a burgeoning joy that threatens to burst out of me. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a drumbeat echoing the frantic dance of emotions within me. "What?" I gasp, the single word barely a whisper, yet thick with a kaleidoscope of feelings.

Seeing the flicker of uncertainty cross his face, a surge of fierce possessiveness washes over me. "I'm serious," he repeats, his gaze boring into mine. "Marry me." The way he says it, the raw vulnerability beneath the determined facade, leaves no room for doubt. This isn't just a question, it's a plea, a declaration of love etched in the sincerity of his eyes.

But logic, that pesky voice of reason, yells in my head. "We haven't even known each other a year," I counter, my voice a shaky whisper. "We just got back together after..." I trail off, the hurt of the recent break-up still fresh.

"A little hiccup in the road," he interjects, his jaw clenching. "We work it out, don't we? We're stronger now."

There's truth in his words. We faced the storm and emerged, supposedly, on the other side. But a few months of rekindled love doesn't erase the doubts, the insecurities that linger like phantoms at the edges of our happiness.

"We haven't even been dating for that long," I press, needing him to see the bigger picture. Marriage, the idea of forever, feels like a mountain looming on the horizon, and we're still navigating the treacherous foothills of our renewed relationship.

A pained smile touches his lips. "I know, I know it seems crazy," he admits, his voice rough. "But this fight, this time apart...Every day without you was torture. Marrying you wouldn't be some rushed decision, it would be the culmination of everything I feel for you."

My own hand clenches into a fist in my lap. This is insane. We haven't even been dating for that long. "Travis," I begin, forcing myself to sound calm, "we don't need to rush into this. You can marry me any day. Why not wait a bit? Next year, maybe? A few months?"

He lets out a frustrated groan. "Because that's an eternity, Taylor! I just want to be with you. Can't you understand that? I know it's crazy, sudden, but that's what makes it exciting, right?"

His words send a conflicting whirlwind through me. Part of me is swept up in the passion, the exhilarating thrill of the unexpected. But a larger, more cautious part remains grounded, terrified of being swept away by a fleeting wave.

"Travis..." I trail off, his name a hesitant plea on my lips.

"Taylor Alison Swift, will you marry me?" He asks once again.

Words gather on the tip of my tongue, then fizzle out. It's like someone's reached in and yanked them all away. My body knows what it should say, every muscle screaming caution. The logistics are a tangled mess – there's just too much to lose. But logic, that fickle friend, has never guided me well when it comes to him.

A breathless laugh escapes me, a sound laced with something wilder than joy. It bubbles up from somewhere deep, a reckless echo of the answer I'm about to give. My lips quirk into a grin, wide and a little manic. "Yes," I whisper, the word a fragile butterfly taking flight.

"Yes?" He double checks with hopeful eyes.

"Yes," I repeat, louder this time, each letter defiant against reason. "I'll marry you." I nod, a single, emphatic jerk of my head.

Marriage. The word itself used to feel like a gilded cage, a symbol of everything I wasn't. Now, with him, it transforms. It becomes a middle finger raised high, a battle cry against the careful, calculated life I've always led. A thrill shoots through me, raw and exhilarating. For the first time, I don't want to be careful. I want to dive headfirst into the unknown with him by my side.  Maybe even get a little lost. Maybe even do something truly, wonderfully reckless.

"Are you... sure?" His voice is still tinged with disbelief, a question lingering in the air.

I meet his outstretched hand halfway, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through me. My grin widens, this time genuine and carefree. "Never been more sure of anything in my life," I declare, my voice ringing with a newfound confidence.

He pulls me into a tight embrace, the air knocked out of my lungs for a sweet, dizzying moment. The warmth of his embrace grounds me for a moment, the frantic pounding of my heart the only sound in our world. Then, with a gasp (dramatic, maybe, but who cares?), I fling myself out of the bed.

"Oh my god, we're engaged!" I yell, bouncing like a kid on Christmas morning. My voice echoes in the quiet room, suddenly feeling too small to contain my bursting excitement.

Travis chuckles, a deep, rich sound that sends shivers down my spine even in this euphoric state. "That's what happens," he teases, "when you accept a marriage proposal."

Right. Proposal. Marriage. My mind races a million miles a minute. I scramble, grabbing his hand and tugging him with me. "We need a ring, and – and I need to call my mom!" I chatter, already fumbling for my phone. My thumb hovers over her contact, but a sudden pause hits me.

A slow smirk spreads across my face, a mischievous glint dancing in my eyes. "Hey, Travis?" I say, turning to him.

His playful smile falters slightly. "Oh god," he mutters, recognizing the look. "The smirk. What are you thinking?"

"What if..." I lean in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "what if we just get married now?"

His eyebrows shoot up. "Elope? Just like that?"

My heart thumps a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "Just like that," I confirm, a thrill coursing through me. The carefully planned wedding, the months of anticipation, the endless guest lists – suddenly all so irrelevant. All I want is him, and the promise of forever echoing in the air between us.

Travis stares at me for a beat, his mouth slightly agape. A war seems to be raging within him - surprise battling with a spark of excitement that mirrors my own. Finally, a slow grin spreads across his face, as wide and infectious as mine.

"Seriously?" he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief but a definite edge of amusement peeking through.

I nod eagerly, bouncing on the balls of my feet. "Seriously! Think about it - no fuss, no stress, just us. We could be married by, like, tomorrow!" The image of a quick, intimate ceremony, fueled by the adrenaline of the moment, sends a delicious thrill through me.

"But your mom... wouldn't she be heartbroken?" He questions.

The thought of my mom's reaction momentarily dampens my enthusiasm. "Okay, maybe not tomorrow," I concede, a slight frown creasing my forehead. "But what if we pack and head to Lake Tahoe or Tybee Island. We could go to a courthouse. Hell, we can do a drive-thru in Vegas and have Elvis marry us!" The idea sounds perfectly imperfect, a stark contrast to the elaborate wedding I'd always envisioned. "Joy can be our witness."

He leans closer, his eyes holding a mixture of wonder and excitement. "That is crazy," he admits, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "but crazy can be good. Especially with you."

My heart leaps in my chest. "So, are you in?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

—————Author's Note:

Is he gonna say yes? 😏

I'm back in America and I'm sad.