Katie and I had been together for four years when she started bringing up the idea of taking the next step. At first, it was just little jokes—comments about rings, playful nudges when we passed wedding dress boutiques. But soon, the jokes faded, replaced by serious conversations. She wanted to know where we were headed. I felt cornered, like I was being pushed toward a decision I wasn’t sure I was ready to make. So, I did what I always did when faced with something uncomfortable—I dodged. I changed the subject, made light of it, promised we’d talk later.

But later kept getting pushed further away.

And yet, something strange happened. The more I avoided the topic, the more it lingered in my mind. Was I ready? Could I picture a life with Katie as my wife? I started catching myself in quiet moments, wondering about it. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t such a terrifying thought after all.

Then came the party.

It was at a mutual friend’s place—a cozy apartment filled with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Katie was helping in the kitchen while I wandered around, awkwardly nursing a drink. I wasn’t particularly close with many people there, so I kept to the edges, half-listening to conversations.

That’s when I heard her voice.

She was talking to a friend, her tone low but unmistakably serious. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the mention of my name made me freeze.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Lisa.”

I felt a cold weight settle in my stomach.

“He keeps avoiding it. It’s like he doesn’t even want to talk about the future. I’m tired of waiting for him to decide if I’m worth it.”

I swallowed hard.

Lisa murmured something, but Katie continued, her voice a mix of frustration and sadness. “I love him. I really do. But I can’t be in a relationship where I’m the only one trying to move forward.”

The words hit me like a brick.

I had been so wrapped up in my own fears that I hadn’t stopped to consider hers. She wasn’t just being pushy—she was hurting. I had thought I was buying time, keeping things stable, but in reality, I had been letting the relationship wither.

I stepped away before I could hear more, my mind spinning. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I replayed her words over and over, feeling guilt settle deep in my chest.

The next day, I made a decision. If I wanted to keep Katie in my life, I had to stop running.

I took her out to her favorite cafe, a quiet little place where we’d spent countless afternoons. She looked surprised when I said I wanted to talk, and I couldn’t blame her.

“I heard what you said last night,” I admitted.

She stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

“At the party. You were talking to Lisa.”

Her expression shifted from confusion to realization, then embarrassment. She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

“I know,” I said. “But I’m glad I did.”

She looked up at me then, eyes wary. I took a deep breath, bracing myself.

“I love you, Katie. I do. And I’ve been avoiding this conversation because I was scared. Not of you, but of making a decision I wasn’t ready for.”

She swallowed. “And now?”

“Now, I know that if I keep running, I’m going to lose you.” I reached across the table and took her hand. “I don’t want that.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and for the first time in a long while, I saw hope there.

We talked for hours that day. About our fears, our hopes, what we both wanted. It wasn’t a magical, all-problems-solved moment, but it was real. And for the first time, I wasn’t avoiding the future—I was stepping into it.

Less than two years later, I stood in front of our family and friends, looking into Katie’s eyes as I slid a ring onto her finger.

Because sometimes, the scariest decisions are the ones worth making.

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