Updated Nov 27, 2025 • ~7 min read
Six weeks after moving into their combined apartment, Jo came home from her office to find Logan cooking dinner.
This wasn’t unusual. They’d fallen into a comfortable rhythm—Logan often got home first and started meal prep.
What was unusual was the candles. And the good plates. And the fact that Olive had been bathed and was wearing a bow tie.
“What’s going on?” Jo asked suspiciously.
“Dinner.”
“We don’t use candles for regular dinner.”
“Maybe I’m feeling romantic.”
“You bathed the dog.”
Logan glanced at Olive, who was indeed looking unusually clean. “She was dirty.”
“She’s never dirty enough for the bow tie. Logan, what’s happening?”
“Can’t a man make a nice dinner for his girlfriend without the third degree?”
Jo narrowed her eyes but decided to play along. She changed out of her work clothes, freshened up, and returned to find the table set beautifully.
They ate—Logan had made her favorite pasta dish, perfectly executed. Conversation flowed easily, touching on their days, upcoming projects, Olive’s latest antics.
Normal. Comfortable. Them.
Except Logan seemed nervous. Kept fidgeting with his napkin. Checking his phone. Glancing at Olive, who was sitting very still and looking expectant.
“Okay, seriously,” Jo said. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird.”
“I’m not acting weird.”
“You’ve checked your phone six times. You never check your phone during dinner.”
Logan set down his fork. “Fine. I’m nervous.”
“About what?”
“This.”
He stood. Walked to the kitchen. Returned with something hidden in his hand.
Jo’s heart started racing.
“Logan—”
“Just listen. Okay? Let me say this.” Logan took a breath. “I’ve been planning this for weeks. Had a whole speech prepared. But now that the moment’s here, all I can think about is that first day. The doormat. The apologizing. The way you looked at me like I was scary but you were determined to make it right anyway.”
“Logan—”
“I fell in love with you that day. Didn’t know it yet, but I did. And every day since, I’ve fallen more. Deeper. Harder. Until I couldn’t imagine life without you. Didn’t want to imagine it.”
He dropped to one knee.
Jo’s hands flew to her mouth.
“Jo Abbott, you’re chaos and sunshine and the best disaster that ever happened to me. You’ve turned my life upside down in every possible way. And I don’t want it right-side-up ever again. I want the chaos. Want the spiraling. Want Olive peeing on doormats and you flooding my bathroom and all the beautiful messy moments that come with loving you.”
Logan opened his hand to reveal a ring. Rose gold band, oval cut stone, exactly what Jo had shown him in her saved photos.
“Will you marry me?”
Jo was crying. Full-on sobbing.
“Jo? That’s not an answer.”
“Yes!”
“Yeah?”
“Yes! God, yes, of course yes!”
Logan slid the ring on her finger—perfect fit, because of course it was—and stood to kiss her.
Jo threw her arms around him, still crying, kissing him between sobs.
Olive barked, demanding attention.
They broke apart laughing. Logan crouched to scratch Olive’s ears. “Good job, troublemaker. You kept the secret.”
“She knew?” Jo asked.
“I’ve been practicing the proposal on her for two weeks. She’s very supportive.”
“How long have you had the ring?”
“Since the theoretical conversation. Bought it the next day.”
“That was six weeks ago!”
“I know. But I wanted the moment to be perfect.”
Jo looked around their candlelit apartment. At the man on one knee. At her chaos goblin dog in a bow tie.
“It is perfect. All of it.”
Logan stood and pulled her close. “You’re sure? It’s only been a few months. We can have a long engagement if you want. Take our time.”
“I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure of anything. But yes, long engagement. Let’s enjoy being engaged before we dive into wedding planning.”
“Erika’s going to lose her mind.”
“Erika’s going to say ‘I told you so’ approximately ten thousand times.”
Logan laughed. “She did call it.”
“She always does.”
They spent the evening on the couch, Jo admiring her ring from every angle, Logan looking pleased with himself.
“Can I tell you something embarrassing?” Jo asked.
“Always.”
“I may have already started a Pinterest board. For wedding ideas.”
“How long have you had it?”
“Since month two.”
“We were barely official at month two.”
“I know. But I was hopeful.”
Logan kissed her temple. “Show me.”
They spent the next hour scrolling through Jo’s extremely detailed wedding Pinterest board. Outdoor venues, simple elegant dresses, cake designs, color palettes.
“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Logan observed.
“I’m a planner.”
“You’re a dreamer.”
“Both.”
“You want outdoor?” Logan asked, looking at the venue photos.
“I think so. Something with natural light. Not too formal.”
“Small or big?”
“Medium? Close friends and family. Nothing massive.”
“Olive in the ceremony?”
“Obviously. She started this whole thing.”
Logan pulled her closer. “We’re really doing this.”
“We really are.”
“Terrified?”
“Absolutely. You?”
“Completely.”
“But good?”
“The best.”
Jo looked at her ring again. Real. Solid. Proof that this wasn’t a dream.
She was engaged.
To Logan Marchand.
The grumpy tattoo artist who’d hated her dog.
Who’d become her best friend.
Her partner.
Her home.
Jo: I’m engaged.
Erika: WHAT
Erika: SEND PHOTO IMMEDIATELY
Jo sent a photo of her hand, ring sparkling in the candlelight.
Erika: I TOLD YOU
Erika: I TOLD YOU SO
Erika: I CALLED IT MONTHS AGO
Jo: You’re very smug.
Erika: I’M ALWAYS RIGHT
Erika: Details. Now. How did he propose?
Jo: Candles, dinner, the dog in a bow tie, down on one knee, the works.
Erika: STOP I’M CRYING
Erika: Can I be maid of honor?
Jo: Obviously.
Erika: Can I plan everything?
Jo: Absolutely not. We’re collaborating.
Erika: Fair. When’s the wedding?
Jo: We haven’t decided. Long engagement. Maybe a year?
Erika: Perfect. Gives me time to plan the best bachelorette party ever.
Jo: Nothing too crazy.
Erika: No promises.
That night, Jo couldn’t sleep. Too excited. Too overwhelmed. Too happy.
Logan pulled her closer. “Stop thinking so loud.”
“I’m engaged.”
“I know. I was there.”
“We’re getting married.”
“That’s generally what engaged means.”
“Logan, we’re going to be married. Legally bound. Forever.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Are you sure? Like really sure? Because once we do this—”
Logan shifted to face her in the darkness. “Jo. I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re it for me. The only one. Forever.”
“Even when I spiral?”
“Especially then.”
“Even when I flood bathrooms and break sinks?”
“Especially then.”
“Even when Olive causes chaos?”
“That’s not on you. She’s her own agent of chaos.”
Jo laughed. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Future wife.”
“Future husband.”
“That has a nice ring to it.”
“Pun intended?”
“Absolutely.”
Jo fell asleep finally, ring on her finger, Logan’s arm around her waist, Olive snoring at their feet.
Engaged.
The word still didn’t feel real.
But it was.
Real and permanent and absolutely terrifying.
And absolutely perfect.
Everything she’d wanted without knowing she wanted it.
A grumpy tattoo artist.
A chaos goblin dog.
A combined apartment with broken-down walls.
A future full of disasters and laughter and love.
It was unconventional.
It was messy.
It was theirs.
And Jo had never been happier.
Never been more certain.
Never been more home.
Because home wasn’t a place.
It was a person.
A grumpy, talented, patient person who’d fallen in love with her chaos.
Who’d chosen her.
Every single day.
Who’d proposed with candles and bow ties and perfect rings.
Who’d promised forever.
And Jo was going to spend the rest of her life making sure he never regretted it.
Even if that meant more flooded bathrooms.
More burnt garlic bread.
More Olive-related disasters.
All of it.
Forever.
Together.
Exactly as it should be.
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