Dressed in loose pants and a simple shirt, his long, dark curls brushing his shoulders, the stranger began to sing—her favorite song, the melody haunting and romantic, echoing through the empty theater. There was no audience, just her. The intimacy of the performance sent a chill up her spine. Why was he singing to her?
Sarah’s instincts flared. She stepped back, unease prickling at her skin. The air felt heavy, too still. She turned to leave, but before she could take another step, she collided with someone—warm, solid.
Harry.
His steady presence grounded her, the familiar scent of his cologne calming her frayed nerves. The spotlight flickered, revealing his golden hair gleaming under the light, and his green eyes, soft and clear, locked onto hers. His lips curled into a gentle smile.
"Welcome, Sarah," he said, his voice a quiet balm against the strange tension.
For a moment, the oddness of the evening melted away. She returned his smile, but confusion still swirled in her chest. "Is this… a rehearsal?" she asked, glancing at the stage, where the stranger's voice still floated.
Harry’s smile deepened, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "No," he murmured. "You’re part of this play. And it’s called 'You.'"
A frown tugged at her lips. "I don’t understand… Harry, what’s going on?"
Before he could answer, the spotlight shifted, illuminating a group of dancers emerging from the shadows. They moved gracefully to a piece of classical music that filled the theater, their voices blending into the soaring melody. The ethereal beauty of the scene should have captivated her, but instead, her heart pounded harder. Something was off.
She turned back to Harry, but the space beside her was empty.
"Harry?" Her voice trembled, barely audible over the growing swell of the music. She spun in place, scanning the darkened hall for him. Then, his voice—clear, strong—cut through the music, singing the same romantic melody as before.
Sarah’s gaze snapped back to the stage. There he was, bathed in the spotlight, standing alone, his voice pouring emotion into every note. She froze, breathless, as Harry descended from the stage, his eyes never leaving hers. He reached for her hand, guiding her up the stairs to join him under the warm circle of light.
The air shimmered with rose petals that gently cascaded from above, soft as whispers, brushing her skin as they fluttered down. Her heart raced, torn between disbelief and wonder. The opera singers waved, their voices lifting in harmony, as if celebrating her presence. And in that fleeting moment, Sarah understood—this was all for her.
As her eyes met Harry’s, he knelt before her. The music faded into the background, the world narrowing to just the two of them.
"I can’t imagine another minute without you," he said, his voice low, intimate. His hand, steady and sure, reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. He opened it slowly, revealing a delicate ring. The diamonds sparkled under the light, but it was Harry’s gaze that captured her, full of warmth and certainty. "Sarah Wayne," he whispered, "will you marry me?"
Her breath caught, tears welling in her eyes. She had dreamed of this moment, but the reality of it—the weight of his words, the intensity in his eyes—was overwhelming. For a heartbeat, everything else fell away. The grand gesture, the theater, the dancers—it didn’t matter. All that mattered was him.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
As Harry slid the ring onto her finger, the world shifted around her. Everything she had ever wanted, everything she had feared to dream, was now real—right here in front of her.
She had been bullied throughout school, and with each cruel word, her confidence withered. She stopped believing anyone could ever truly like her. But then, Harry came into her life. It took time for her to trust him—she had never had anyone before, and opening her heart was difficult. Yet, Harry was different. Patient and unwavering, he stayed by her side, proving himself in quiet, steady ways. Slowly, she began to believe in him, and even more so, in herself. For the first time, after meeting Harry, she realized she deserved happiness—and she deserved it with him.
The days after the proposal were a whirlwind of joy and planning. They visited bridal shops, tried on suits and dresses, and circled dates on the calendar with eager hands. Yet beneath her excitement, Sarah felt the quiet ache of something missing.
She had no family to share this moment with.
One afternoon, as they stood in the bridal shop, Sarah’s fingers lightly traced the intricate lace of a gown, its softness somehow amplifying the hollow feeling in her chest. Her smile faltered, her hand falling to her side. Harry, standing beside her, noticed immediately. He always did.
"I don’t have anyone to invite," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. She kept her gaze fixed on the gown, as though if she looked at Harry, her sadness would spill over.
For a moment, the shop was filled only with the faint hum of distant chatter, the rustling of silk and tulle. Then, Harry’s hand gently found her shoulder. His touch was warm, grounding her in the moment.
"It’s okay," he murmured softly, his voice filled with quiet understanding. "You have me. I don’t have my mother with me either… but my father will be there. And together, "We’ll make our own family, Sarah. One day, it’ll be more than enough."
Her heart warmed at his words. Harry, ever the steady presence, had a way of making everything seem possible.
His words settled over her like a soft blanket, comforting yet bittersweet. Sarah looked up at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She saw the sincerity in his green eyes, the way they softened with love and certainty.
Even when her past threatened to creep in, casting its long shadow, he was always there to pull her back into the light.
"I know," she whispered, trying to smile, though her heart still ached. "It’s just... sometimes I wish things were different."
Harry cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing a tear that slipped free he said, his voice low and tender. "But what we build together—it’ll be more than enough. I promise."
In that moment, Sarah felt the weight of her loneliness lift slightly. She nodded, letting his words soothe the emptiness that had followed her for so long. With Harry, perhaps she could believe that they really would create something whole, something new.
Looking into his eyes, Sarah couldn’t help but believe him. Was she truly this lucky? Could happiness be this simple?
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.