10
T
The day Logan proposed to me was just an ordinary afternoon.
He was lounging lazily in a rocking chair on the porch, swaying back and forth with a relaxed grin.
“Mia,” he said, his voice casual but steady, “let’s get married.”
I scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Do all men propose like this? So half–hearted, like you don’t even care anymore once you’ve got what you want.”
“Where’s the romance? The grand gesture? This is seriously lacking effort!”
Logan chuckled, unbothered by my teasing.
Without a word, he reached under the chair and pulled out a massive stack of documents.
There were stock transfer agreements, property deeds, and a bunch of other official–looking papers.
He dumped the whole pile onto my lap and said, “Here. My entire net worth. Is that enough effort for you?”
I stared at the stack, completely speechless.
Before I could even process what was happening, he leaned closer, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
Then, in his best imitation of a cheesy billionaire from a romance novel, he drawled, “Hmm? Speak up, woman. Is it enough for you? Answer me!”
1 burst out laughing, leaning in to kiss him softly.
“It’s enough,” I whispered against his lips.
“With you, Logan, it’s always enough.”
(The story ends here.)
