Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Morning After the Yes
(Ria's POV)
The sunlight hit my face before my alarm did, which was honestly rude. I groaned, rolled over, and saw my phone blinking with a new message.
Miles 👀: Good morning, girlfriend.
Girlfriend.
The word looked foreign and familiar at the same time. Like trying on a jacket you secretly loved but weren't sure you could pull off.
I typed back: Don't call me that this early.
Miles 👀: So you prefer "baby"? Or "mine"?
I stared at the screen for a good ten seconds. He did not just—
Ria: You're impossible.
Miles 👀: And yet, you said yes.
I threw the phone on my pillow, but it didn't stop my smile. It was annoying, how easily he could crawl under my skin with a single text.
I dragged myself out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. Lia was already there, coffee in hand, wearing her boyfriend's hoodie because apparently that was her entire aesthetic now.
She raised an eyebrow as I poured cereal. "You're smiling weird. Spill."
"I'm not smiling weird."
She leaned over the counter. "You're smiling Miles weird."
I choked on my cereal. "Excuse me?"
"Oh, please," she said, smirking. "You literally said his name in your sleep last night. Twice."
"I did not—"
She pointed at me with her spoon. "You so did. It was either him or some guy named 'My Latte.'"
I groaned. "You're evil."
She grinned. "And you're whipped. How was the date anyway? You barely told me anything last night."
I hesitated. My mind flashed back to the moment — the way Miles had leaned forward over the café table, eyes warm, teasing, but serious beneath it.
It wasn't even a fancy date. Just us at a small corner café that smelled like roasted hazelnuts and cinnamon.
He'd ordered black coffee because, in his words, "men with good taste don't need sugar." I'd rolled my eyes so hard he laughed.
Halfway through, he went quiet — like really quiet — and just looked at me.
"What?" I asked.
He tilted his head. "You have this little line right here when you're pretending not to laugh."
I blinked. "That's the weirdest thing anyone's ever said to me."
"Maybe," he said softly, "but it's true. And I like it."
I remember feeling my pulse trip over itself.
And then, just when I thought the air couldn't get heavier, he leaned back, smiling that devil smile of his.
"Be my girlfriend, Threads."
It wasn't even a question. It was a challenge — like he already knew I'd say yes.
I'd tried to play it off, teasing. "You think you can handle me?"
He grinned, leaning closer. "I'm counting on it."
And yeah… I said yes.
"Earth to Ria?" Lia waved a hand in front of my face.
I blinked. "What?"
"You zoned out like you were replaying a rom-com in your head. Don't tell me he actually asked you to be his girlfriend."
I bit my lip.
"Oh my God," she gasped. "He did! You said yes?"
I nodded, cheeks heating.
Lia shrieked — like, actual dolphin noises. "Ria Leona Rahman, the girl who said love was a scam made by capitalism, just got herself a boyfriend!"
I threw a napkin at her. "It's not that deep!"
She just grinned. "Does Ethan know?"
I froze. "…Probably not."
Her expression softened. "You'll have to tell him eventually."
"I know."
"Does Miles know about… Ethan?"
I sighed. "He suspects. He's Miles — he notices everything."
"Yeah," she said slowly. "And he looks at you like he'd burn the world if someone else tried."
I didn't answer. Because she wasn't wrong.
Later that day, Miles picked me up for what he called our "official first date as a certified couple."
His car smelled faintly of leather and mint, and he was already smirking before I even closed the door.
"Seatbelt," he said, reaching over — and I swear he did it on purpose, brushing my arm like it was nothing.
I rolled my eyes. "You're enjoying this too much."
"Of course I am," he said simply. "I finally get to show people you're mine."
"Possessive much?" I teased.
He glanced at me, smile fading just slightly. "Maybe a little. I don't share well."
Something about the honesty in his voice made my chest tighten.
He took me to this small hidden restaurant near the river — candlelight, soft music, the works. It wasn't fancy, but it felt intimate. Like he'd thought about it.
We ate, talked, argued playfully about movies. He kept finding excuses to touch my hand. At one point, a guy from one of my classes walked by and said hi — and Miles' jaw actually tightened.
"Relax," I whispered. "He just asked for the notes last semester."
Miles' voice dropped low. "He looked at you like he wanted more than notes."
I smirked. "Jealous?"
He leaned closer, voice soft but rough at the edges. "Not jealous. Just making sure everyone knows what they can't have."
And maybe it should've scared me a little, but instead… it felt like being seen.
When he dropped me home, he didn't kiss me. He just brushed his thumb against my jaw, like a promise.
"Goodnight, Threads."
"Goodnight, Miles."
He smiled. "Text me when you get inside, okay?"
I nodded, stepped out — heart thundering — and watched him drive away, headlights fading into the night.
Back upstairs, Lia was waiting like a nosy little gremlin.
"So?"
I threw my purse at her. "So nothing."
She grinned. "You're glowing."
"Stop saying that!"
"Oh, you totally are." She smirked. "What are you gonna do when Ethan finds out?"
I looked out the window — where the city lights looked like stars that never went out.
"I don't know," I said quietly. "But for now… I think I'm just gonna let myself be happy."
And for the first time in a long time — I actually meant it.