The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 106

"This is for you, Sloane." Josh pulled an elegant little velvet box from his pocket and offered it to her.

Sloane blinked, staring at the box without reaching for it. "Everything's fine. Why are you suddenly giving me a present?"

Josh's lips curved into a smile.

"Sloane, didn't you mention yesterday that I never congratulated you on reclaiming your freedom? Think of this gift as a little token of my appreciation."

Sloane: ...

"You're kidding, right? I can't possibly accept a gift this valuable."

"Of course I'm kidding." Josh chuckled out loud, pressing the box firmly into her hands. "It's just a cheap souvenir I picked up locally in South America. The locals said it's a type of volcanic rock called obsidian. They claim it wards off evil and brings good luck. I thought it looked pretty, so I bought it on a whim."

Sloane gave a soft "Oh," and popped the box open. Inside lay a necklace—a delicate white silver chain suspending a teardrop-shaped black stone. It was purely black, but when angled against the light, tiny golden flecks shimmered inside it, like stars scattered across a night sky.

"It's really beautiful." She looked up at him. "I'll accept it then. Thank you, Josh."

Just as Sloane was about to snap the box shut, Josh spoke again:

"Let me put it on for you."

Sloane's hands paused.

The area around them was mostly empty now. Almost everyone had cleared out, leaving only the faint clinking of glasses and silverware from the buffet tables. What she failed to notice, however, was the blinking red recording light on Diego's phone, the lens pointed directly at them—the livestream was still running.

The comments on the screen were in absolute pandemonium.

[Holy shit, holy shit, what is he doing? Is he proposing?!]

[This guy is too smooth, someone save me!]

[Noooo, is my goddess already taken?!]

[But this scene is giving me major butterflies ahhhhh!]

[This is way better than a romance movie!]

Early the next morning, Sloane was jolted awake by a knock at her door.

"Sloane, are you up?"

It was Josh's voice, kept very low, presumably to avoid waking the other passengers.

Sloane rubbed her eyes and checked her phone—it was 6:15 AM. She threw on a jacket and went to open the door.

Josh stood in the hallway wearing a navy-blue puffer coat. His hair was slightly mussed by the sea breeze, but his eyes were shining brightly.

"Hurry, get to the deck!" he said, his expression unusually ecstatic. "There are whales."

Sloane blinked, instantly wide awake.

She shoved her arms into a windbreaker and sprinted after Josh toward the observation deck.

The moment they burst through the cabin doors, an icy gale slammed into them, thick with the heavy scent of the ocean. The sun had barely risen, painting the sea in hues of grayish-blue that seamlessly bled into the pale gray sky above. Several icebergs floated in the distance, resembling solitary, white behemoths.