Count to three: My affair with my dynamics professor (teacher x student)

Chapter 80 - Three

Frida could still see her, outlined against the fading light, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face, her hands steady in that way that always calmed Frida. And it hadn't been a performance. Inés hadn't dropped to one knee or tried to dress the moment in drama. She had only looked at her as though the question was less a question than the unfolding of something that had already been decided between them. As though every ride, every conversation, every night they had stolen for themselves had already carried them here.

When Inés spoke, her voice was low, almost amused in its certainty, and yet there was an undertone of reverence that made Frida's chest ache. She hadn't tried to persuade or convince — she had simply said what was true, and in saying it, had made it impossible for Frida to imagine any other path.

The ring itself had been simple, elegant, white gold catching the last thread of daylight, the light green stone nearly translucent at the edges. A color that felt alive on Frida's skin — the same color that watched her every day with quiet fire, the same color that had undone her the first time Inés held her gaze too long. Slipping it onto her finger by the lakeside had felt less like a ceremony and more like a completion. As if her hand had been waiting for it.

She remembered that she hadn't cried at first. She had only laughed, this startled, breathless laugh, because it felt so inevitable, so utterly theirs, and because for the first time since her brother's death she couldn't imagine an ending, only continuation. The tears had come later, in a rush against Inés's shoulder, when the steadiness of her arms made the future feel not like a terrifying expanse but something she wanted to step into.

What rang clearest, even now, was the way Inés had asked. Not a speech, not a trembling confession. She had never been one for ornament where truth alone would do. The lake stretched wide behind her, she had tilted her head slightly — that small gesture that always made Frida feel like she was being studied and chosen all at once.

"Frida," she had said, the syllables softened by the evening air. There had been no preamble, no nervous buildup. Just the weight of her name. And then, with a steadiness that left no room for hesitation: "Hazme el honor de quedarte conmigo. De ser mi familia. De ser mi casa." (Give me the honor of staying with me. Of being my family. Of being my home.)

Frida had learned Spanish by then and knew that the words had not been a question in the ordinary sense. They had landed with the certainty of something already lived, already written between them. And maybe that was why it had struck so deep — because Frida had always feared that if anyone ever proposed to her, it would feel like a performance, like a grand gesture waiting to collapse under its own weight. But this had not been a performance. This had been inevitable.

Even now, about a year later, the echo of Inés's voice still threaded through her chest when she thought of it, steady and low, leaving no doubt. It rang in her ears like a vow, like something eternal.

She must have gone quiet longer than she realized, because she didn't notice Inés moving until the warmth of her arms slipped around her stomach from behind, pulling her back into the room. The air shifted; the memory receded. Her fiancée's chin brushed against her shoulder, her breath warm where it touched Frida's neck.

"You're far away," Inés murmured, and Frida felt her lips curve in a half-smile against her skin. One strong hand slid from her waist, reaching forward to the console where her own ring had been resting. She picked it up without looking, as though she'd known its place instinctively, and with deliberate care she slid it back onto her own finger.

Then Inés's hands returned to Frida, protective, possessive in their quiet way, palms pressing against her stomach as if to anchor her. "I can almost hear you thinking," she teased, voice velvet and amused. "Always wandering into your head when you put that ring on. What is it this time?"