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“But you didn’t stop once you got your master’s degree,” she pushed, pressing him for more, processing the fact that this simple, unassuming man who had already surprised her a few times, had this little ‘bombshell’ in his back pocket like it was nothing.

“I needed a backup plan in case I couldn’t ever play,” he said simply, looking at the menu again. “Did you see they have cake? Would you prefer a slice of pie for dessert or cake? Or maybe something else?”

Karen just sat there, stunned. Jett was pretending to look at the menu, turning it over and avoiding her stare, before he finally set it down with a dramatic sigh.

“Look, it’s on paper. It’s a degree I haven’t used until moving here.

I’m living proof that ‘C’s’ can get you a degree if you pay enough money for it.

I’m not proud of it because I don’t feel like I accomplished something.

I win a game, score the winning point – then I can point at it and beat my chest in pride.

I look at some rolled up diploma, and it’s paper,” he shrugged, like it was nothing.

Nothing.

She was flabbergasted and utterly speechless.

“Maybe I can fall back on it if my career ever dries up, but that is all it was ever meant to be. My mom is proud of it, but she gets more excited when we win a game. My brother calls me a nerd but raves about hockey with me. It’s a piece of paper and…

and… and why are you giving me that weird look? ” Jett asked.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered openly, not bothering to hide it.

“I feel so incredibly blessed that you picked me – and you are amazing in so many ways I never anticipated. You push through where you struggle, put your mind to the things you excel at, you never give up, never settle, and you are always finding ways to reach people— including me,” she admitted thickly, feeling a burning sensation in her nose and realized she was on the verge of crying – proud, happy, excited tears.

“Nutella…” he began hoarsely, and something changed in his gaze as she shook her head, speaking once more.

“I am so proud of you and refuse to let you dimmish any of your accomplishments, even if you don’t see them that way,” she whispered emotionally. “Because I do – and I’m proud enough for the both of us.”

Jett stood up and walked over to her side of the table, and Karen wasn’t sure what to say or do now… only to feel him put his hands under her arms, pulling her to her feet, and he hugged her.

Oh gosh, did he hug her!

His arms wrapped around her like a cocoon she couldn’t break free from even if she wanted to – instead, she closed her eyes and savored the feeling before she realized he was trembling in her arms.

“Jett?” she breathed, feeling unsure.

“I’ve never had anyone look at me like you do,” he began in a hushed tone, his voice the merest sound only designed for her to hear as he whispered against her hair, by her ear.

His voice was thick, hoarse, trembling with emotion.

“You see me, the real me. You get me, and this is a blessing – for both of us.”

His arms tightened slightly as he tucked his head against her shoulder awkwardly because he was taller than her – and she smiled, closed her eyes again, and tightened her own grip on him. He was warm, strong, so full of heart, and humble about his accomplishments.

“I’m glad you told me – you have nothing to be humble about; it’s still an accomplishment,” she praised, stroking the hair on the back of his head tenderly – only to feel him rear back.

“I don’t have a humble bone in my body,” he began, lifting an eyebrow at her with an arrogant look on his face… but it was there, in his eyes, and she just smiled.

“My mistake,” she acknowledged, giving him this moment and tucking this awareness into her heart, realizing she was falling for this incredible man – hard. He looked at her, hesitated, and then looked past her, raising his arm.

“Yo! Can we get the glazed Brussels sprouts with our meal?”

A part of her cringed as his voice carried slightly to the waiter, who was three tables away and headed in their direction.

Jett turned, waiting for her to sit down, before moving back to his seat as the waiter brought over a bottle of something, holding it out for Jett’s approval.

He nodded, and before she knew it, they were both holding a glass of something golden and bubbly aloft to each other.

“To forever,” Jett offered, smiling at her. “And to always finding some surprise along the way.”

Yup.

This was her fairy tale, her Prince Charming.

Flaws and all.

H ours later, as Karen stepped through the door of the condo, a warm, unshakable feeling settled over her chest like a thick, comforting quilt.

Tonight had been something extraordinary.

Not extravagant or grand, but real. Soul-deep.

It was the kind of night she hadn’t realized she’d been starving for until it unfolded around her, slow and genuine like honey poured from the jar.

They’d laughed until their cheeks ached.

Talked about things that mattered, not just surface chatter but honest, clumsy truths that spilled out when walls came down.

Somewhere in the middle of the evening, without meaning to, she had let her guard slip, and Jett hadn’t taken advantage of that vulnerable moment.

He hadn’t flirted or teased or tried to make a move.

He simply met her where she was—patient, present, and quietly disarming.

It was then she truly saw him. Not the version of Jett he presented to the world, loud and brash and impossible to ignore, but the man beneath the swagger.

The man who carried himself like he always had something to prove, yet didn’t need applause or approval.

He stood tall and carried his arrogance like a badge, but it was clear now—it wasn’t about ego.

It was about ownership. He wasn’t performing; he was just unapologetically himself.

Jett didn’t care if people found his choices strange or his laugh too loud.

He didn’t decorate to impress or speak to entertain.

His furniture wasn’t picked for aesthetics—it was chosen because it felt like home to him.

Comfortable. Lived-in. Just like he was.

He didn’t shift or bend for anyone... except her.

And that hit Karen hard.

He gave her space—literally and figuratively—without question or complaint.

The master bedroom was hers, a gesture that had seemed minor at first but now spoke volumes.

He understood that they weren’t there yet—not ready for closeness, not ready for intimacy.

They were still learning each other, still unwrapping layers.

And somehow, Jett saw that with a quiet clarity that startled her.

He respected that space, honored it, and never pushed.

She was almost certain he hadn’t been like that with others before her. There was a softness to him tonight that whispered of change—of choice. He hadn’t just married her; he was choosing her, day after day, word after word, laugh after laugh. And heaven help her, it was working.

“I can’t believe you asked to keep the massive bone from your steak – or that you ate everything,” she said, her voice light with laughter as Jett closed the door behind them. The lock clicked, and his low chuckle joined hers like a familiar song.

“The dude asked me if I had a dog… I was like ‘ nah bruh, I’m gonna frame it’ ,” Jett replied, nearly choking on his own laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that boyish way that always caught her off guard.

“The look on his face…” she began, already laughing again.

“Nutella, you shoulda seen the look on yours!” he exclaimed, pointing at her with delight, and just like that, they were laughing all over again—loud and uninhibited as no one had ever told them to keep it down.

He kicked off his sneakers and dropped his bag by the door without ceremony, wandering into the living room like he’d always belonged there.

Like maybe she did, too. He flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh, sprawled out like a man who knew exactly where he fit.

Karen followed behind him, slowly slipping off her heels and leaving them abandoned by the door.

When she turned, she saw him watching her.

Not in a way that made her shrink or second-guess. No, he looked at her like she was a person worth noticing—even in the quiet, unglamorous moments. Barefoot and exhausted, she padded over to the opposite end of the couch and collapsed onto the cushion, curling her legs up and meeting his eyes.

And then, without thinking, she gave him the look.

His look.

The cocked eyebrow, that signature expression he wore like armor. She mirrored it perfectly, lifting one brow with exaggerated precision. Jett stared for a heartbeat, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion, and then?—

They both broke into laughter again.

“Are you making fun of me?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Maybe?”

“It looks good on you, so do it again.”

And just like that… something inside Karen melted—quietly, irreversibly.

It wasn’t dramatic. No soaring music, no cinematic kiss in the rain.

Just the low hum of comfort humming between two people who were finally in step with each other.

This— this —was how it began, not with grand declarations or the dizzy rush of infatuation, but with laughter shared over steak bones and lingering smiles on a too-comfortable couch.

With a warmth that crept up slow, steady…

a warmth that whispered, You’re safe here. You’re seen.

And maybe, just maybe, a bit of - You’re falling for me… and loved right back .

“I plan on it,” Karen chuckled, the joy from their evening still softening her from the inside out. She felt light—like she’d let go of something heavy she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying for far too long.

“Wanna watch some television?” Jett asked, his voice casual, his smile easy.