Beneath Her Ice

The invitation had come with a glittery e-vite and a dozen follow-up texts from Charlotte :"Just dinner.""Nothing fancy.""Jan's cooking. Will says you can't back out."

Eliza didn't like casual obligations. She didn't "pop by," she didn't RSVP, and she certainly didn't wear floral. But Will wanted this — wanted her to be part of his life, not just behind closed doors.

So she showed up.

In black cashmere. With a bottle of Syrah. And with more nerves than she'd admit.

Jan's Brooklyn brownstone smelled like roasted garlic, rosemary, and the kind of warmth Eliza associated with holidays and homes she never had.

Jan opened the door barefoot, apron-clad, hair pulled into a loose bun.

"Eliza," she said with a smile that wasn't fake or forced — just... real. "I'm so glad you came."

Will stood behind her, leaning against the staircase banister in jeans and a soft gray T-shirt. The way his eyes lit up when he saw Eliza made her forget for a second that she still didn't know where to put herself in rooms like this.

She handed the wine to Jan. "It breathes well. Like a good startup."

Jan laughed. "Then it'll fit in perfectly."

Charlotte arrived half an hour later with an armful of bakery bags and stories about office drama Eliza only half-followed.

Still, she tried.

Tried to ask about Jan's clinic, tried not to retreat behind her wineglass when laughter got too loud. Will was beside her the whole time, brushing her knee under the table or stealing quick glances like he still couldn't believe she was real.

By dessert, Eliza had loosened enough to smile without thinking about it.

That's when it happened.

Charlotte, ever the agent of chaos, got up to help clear plates and dropped her ring onto the table with a casual, "Don't want to lose it in the pie."

Will picked it up, twirling it once between his fingers. "I always forget how heavy engagement rings are."

Jan raised a brow. "You trying to tell us something, Bennett?"

Eliza froze.

The moment was light, a joke. But it changed the air.

Will passed the ring to Eliza with a crooked smile. "You want to try it on? See how power really feels?"

She met his eyes. There was heat behind the teasing — something unspoken, steady.

Carefully, she slipped the ring onto her finger.

It fit.

Too well.

Charlotte gasped dramatically. "Look at you! CEO by day, fiancée by dessert."

Eliza smiled, but it felt fragile. Not because she didn't want it.

Because for the first time in her life, she did.

And that terrified her more than any boardroom ever could.

Later, in the quiet hum of their apartment, Will brushed her hair back from her face as she stared at her reflection — still wearing the borrowed ring.

"You okay?"

She nodded slowly. "I thought I'd feel trapped."

"And you don't?"

"I feel... full. Like if I let myself have this, I might never want to give it back."

Will stepped behind her, his hands settling on her hips. "Then don't."

She met his eyes in the mirror, something in her chest tugging painfully, beautifully.

"You want this?" she asked. "Really? Us like that?"

He didn't hesitate. "I've wanted that since the first night you didn't run."

She turned slowly, ring still on her hand, heart pounding in a way she didn't have words for.

He kissed her — soft, sure.

Not a proposal. Not yet.

But something was coming.

And this time, Eliza wasn't backing away from it.

She was walking toward it, one step at a time.