The gym was loud — clanking weights, pounding footsteps on treadmills, someone grunting like they were fighting for their life — but Noah moved through it all like he was underwater. Focused, quiet, too still inside.
His chestnut‑brown skin glistened with sweat, and his light grey eyes looked almost metallic under the fluorescent lights. Normally, he had a calm, organized energy about him — the kind of man who tracked his bills, his workouts, his spending, his goals. But today, something in him felt… unsettled.
Kevin noticed first.
"Bro," he said, pushing his light orange hair off his forehead, "you're lifting like you're trying to punish the weights."
Domingo, caramel‑skinned and broad‑shouldered in his black tank top and blue basketball shorts, snorted. "Nah, he's lifting like he's trying to avoid thinking."
Quill adjusted his round black prescription glasses, the yellow tank top under his black sweatsuit peeking out as he moved. His elf‑like necklace bounced against his chest. "He's been quiet since he walked in. That's not normal quiet. That's… Noah quiet."
Noah didn't argue. He just exhaled and set the dumbbells down carefully — too carefully for someone who usually liked the satisfying thud.
They migrated to the gym's food court, a corner with plastic tables, protein shakes, and the faint smell of disinfectant. The four of them sat, the table wobbling every time someone leaned on it.
Noah dropped into his seat, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. His all‑black sweatsuit made him look like a shadow with perfect posture.
Domingo leaned forward. "Alright Noah. What's going on?"
Noah hesitated. His jaw flexed. His fingers tapped against each other — a habit he only had when he was overthinking.
"I've been planning something," he finally said.
Kevin's blue eyes widened. "Planning? Like… organizing your cereal again?"
Quill smirked. "Or alphabetizing your apps?"
Noah shook his head. "No. Bigger."
The three of them leaned in.
Noah swallowed. "I'm going to propose."
Domingo's eyebrows shot up. "To Sarah?"
"Yeah."
Kevin let out a low whistle. "Ten years, man. That's… that's huge."
Quill's voice softened. "You nervous?"
Noah nodded once. "I've been carrying the ring around for a week. I keep waiting for the perfect moment, but… I don't know. I feel like something's off. Like I'm missing something."
Quill asked " How so ?"
"I don't know," Noah said. "She's been distant. Quiet. I keep telling myself it's work stress, or she's tired, or I'm overthinking. But I track everything — my money, my schedule, my goals — and I can't track this. I can't read her lately."
Kevin leaned back, crossing his arms. "You think she's gonna say no?"
Noah didn't answer right away. His eyes drifted to the floor.
"I hope not," he said quietly. "But I can't shake the feeling that something's changed."
The table went still. Even the gym noise felt muted for a moment.
Quill reached out, tapping the table gently. "Whatever happens, you're not alone in it."
Domingo nodded. "Facts. We got you."
Kevin smirked. "Even if you start color‑coding your emotions next."
Noah huffed a small laugh — the first real one all day. "I don't do that."
"You absolutely do," Quill said.
But the teasing was warm, grounding. It didn't erase the knot in Noah's chest, but it loosened it just enough for him to breathe.
Tomorrow, he'd ask the biggest question of his life.
Tonight, he just needed his brothers.
Sarah sat curled up on the corner of her grey sectional couch, legs tucked under her, a throw blanket draped over her lap. The living room was warm and softly lit — candles on the coffee table, a half‑finished glass of wine beside her, and her two closest friends sprawled across the room like they owned the place.
Jada sat on the floor with her back against the couch, scrolling through her phone. She had a sharp tongue and a sharper bob cut.
Maya lounged in the armchair, long braids hanging over one shoulder, sipping her drink like she was waiting for the drama to start.
Sarah exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Okay… I need to say something, and I don't want y'all to judge me."
Jada didn't even look up. "Girl, we judge with love. Go ahead."
Maya smirked. "If it's about Noah alphabetizing your pantry again, I already judged."
Sarah shook her head. "No. It's… bigger."
That got their attention. Both women looked up, eyes narrowing in unison.
Maya leaned forward. "What's going on?"
Sarah hesitated, fingers tightening around the blanket. "I don't want to get married."
Silence.
Not shocked silence — more like finally‑you‑said‑it silence.
Jada raised a brow. "To Noah specifically, or in general?"
Sarah swallowed. "Both."
Maya set her glass down. "Talk to us."
Sarah stared at the flickering candle. "I love him. I do. He's good. He's stable. He's… safe. But marriage? I don't know if that's what I want. Not now. Maybe not ever."
Jada shifted to face her fully. "Have you told him that?"
"No," Sarah whispered. "Because I don't want to hurt him. And he's been acting weird lately. Quiet. Focused. Like he's planning something."
Maya's eyes widened. "Planning what?"
"I don't know," Sarah said. "But I can feel it. And it scares me."
Jada sighed. "Sarah… you've been with him ten years. He probably thinks marriage is the next step."
"I know," Sarah said, voice cracking. "And that's the problem. I don't want to break his heart. But I also don't want to lie about what I want."
Maya leaned back, thoughtful. "You're allowed to want something different. Even if he's a good man."
Sarah nodded slowly. "I just… I feel guilty. He's so organized, so put‑together. He plans everything. And I feel like the one thing he can't plan is me."
Jada reached up and squeezed her hand. "You're not a spreadsheet. You're a person."
Sarah laughed weakly. "Try telling him that."
Maya tilted her head. "So what are you gonna do?"
Sarah looked toward the hallway, toward the bedroom where the life she'd built with Noah sat neatly arranged — his clothes folded perfectly, his planner on the nightstand, his world always in order.
"I don't know," she whispered. "But I can't pretend forever."
Her friends exchanged a look — not judgment, but concern.
Jada spoke softly. "Whatever happens, we're here."