My consciousness slipped away in an instant, the world crumbling before my eyes.
The System's cold notification echoed in my mind.
The moment the teleportation completed, I found myself in an entirely unfamiliar environment.
Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, the air rich with the aroma of coffee.
Ethan Anderson stood at the edge of light and shadow, his posture as straight as a pine tree.
He handed me a steaming cup of cocoa, his fingertips brushing lightly against the back of my hand.
The warmth sent a tremor through my heart.
"The new illustrator?" His voice carried amusement. "Your work has spirit."
I looked up and met his amber eyes, filled with nothing but pure admiration.
That gaze was too clean—unlike Lucas Roscente's, which always held calculation and schemes.
We fell in love quickly.
He was like a beam of light, piercing through the gloom of my world.
Ethan could always chase away the shadows in my heart with just a smile.
On the day we went to see the ocean, the sunset turned the waves into scattered gold.
Suddenly, he dropped to one knee in the sand, his fingers trembling slightly as he pulled out a ring box.
"Sophia, will you marry me?" The evening glow reflected in his eyes. "I know it's too soon, but I can't wait."
The sea breeze lifted the strands of hair falling over his forehead, and I suddenly remembered—Lucas had never proposed.
That marriage had felt more like a transaction.
Tears blurred my vision as I nodded vigorously.
Ethan carefully slid the ring onto my finger before pulling me into his arms.
His heartbeat was fast and erratic—unlike Lucas, who was always composed.
"I'll make you the happiest bride," he whispered the promise against my ear.
The wedding was set for three months later.
Ethan took charge of every detail personally.
Every afternoon, he would disappear into the study, scribbling notes and checking lists.
"Custom-made or ready-to-wear wedding dress?"
"Beach or castle venue?"
"Which font for the invitations?"
He consulted me on everything, afraid of overlooking the slightest thing.
This feeling of being treasured made me feel like I was dreaming.
Sometimes, I'd wake in the middle of the night and stare at his sleeping profile.
Moonlight settled on his lashes, casting delicate shadows.
I'd gently hold his hand, our rings glinting faintly in the dark.
This time, I would finally have the happiness that belonged to me.