Updated Nov 26, 2025 • ~4 min read
One year after the bridge, Oliver took Lizzie back to the restaurant where they’d had their first date.
“Why are we here?” Lizzie asked as they were seated at the same table.
“Because I want to do this right. From the beginning.” Oliver smiled nervously. “I want a do-over. A fresh start.”
“We’ve been dating for a year. Living together for six months. It’s a little late for a first date.”
“Humor me.”
So Lizzie did. They ordered the same meals they’d had three years ago. The same wine. And Oliver asked her the same questions he’d asked then—about her work, her dreams, her favorite things.
“This is surreal,” Lizzie said, laughing.
“Is it working? Am I impressing you with my charm and wit?”
“You’re impressing me with your commitment to this bit.”
After dinner, Oliver walked her home—even though they lived together. He held her hand, kept a respectful distance, played the perfect gentleman.
At her doorstep—their doorstep—he kissed her softly.
“Can I see you again?” he asked.
Lizzie was grinning. “We live together.”
“Still. Let me court you properly. Date you the way I should’ve from the start.”
“Okay. But next time, you’re meeting my parents.”
Oliver paled. “Your parents who watched me marry your sister?”
“Those very parents. If we’re doing this right, you have to face them eventually.”
The dinner with Austin and Chloe Miller was exactly as awkward as expected. They’d been civil at Maddie’s hospital bedside, but this was different. This was Oliver asking permission to date their daughter. Again.
“Mr. Miller,” Oliver began. “I know I don’t deserve another chance—”
“You don’t,” Austin interrupted. “But apparently my daughter loves you anyway. So here we are.”
Chloe was gentler. “Oliver, we’ve seen how hard you’ve worked. How much you’ve changed. And we’ve seen how happy Lizzie is. That matters more than the past.”
“But,” Austin added firmly, “if you hurt her again, I will make your life a living hell. Understood?”
“Understood, sir.”
By the end of dinner, Austin was almost smiling. Almost.
“He still hates me,” Oliver said in the car afterward.
“He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t trust you. Yet.”
“Will he ever?”
“Probably not. But he’ll tolerate you for my sake. That’s close enough.”
They continued their “courting” for another month. Oliver brought flowers. Planned dates. Wrote her love letters. It was sweet and old-fashioned and completely unnecessary.
Lizzie loved every second of it.
“Why are you doing all this?” she asked one night.
“Because I want you to have the romance you deserved the first time. The build-up. The anticipation. The certainty that I’m all in before we go any further.”
“We live together. We’ve gone pretty far.”
“You know what I mean. Before I propose. Before I ask you to marry me for real.”
Lizzie’s heart stuttered. “You’re going to propose?”
“Eventually. When you’re ready. When I’ve proven myself enough.” Oliver pulled her close. “But I’m taking my time. Doing it right. Because the next time I ask you to marry me, I want you to say yes without any doubts.”
“What if I always have doubts?”
“Then I’ll keep earning your trust until the doubts get quieter.”
They were quiet for a moment.
“Ask me,” Lizzie whispered.
“What?”
“Ask me if I’d say yes. Right now. If you proposed.”
Oliver pulled back to look at her. “Would you?”
Lizzie searched her heart. A year ago, the answer would’ve been no. Six months ago, maybe. But now?
“Yes,” she said softly. “I would say yes.”
Oliver’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really. I trust you, Oliver. I love you. And I’m not scared anymore. Or at least, not scared enough to say no.”
“That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
Lizzie laughed. “I’m serious. You’ve proven yourself. Every day for over a year. And I’m ready. Not right this second,” she added quickly. “But soon. When the time is right.”
“How will I know when the time is right?”
“You’ll know.”
Oliver kissed her, deep and thorough and full of promise.
“I’m going to make it perfect,” he said. “The proposal. Everything. You deserve perfect.”
“I don’t need perfect. I just need you.”
“Well, you’re getting both.”
The next few weeks, Oliver was suspiciously secretive. He’d take mysterious phone calls, disappear for hours, smile when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Lizzie knew what was coming. And instead of panic, she felt excitement.
This was happening. They were really doing this. Building a future from the ruins of their past.
And this time, Lizzie was certain it would last.
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