Sienna didn't expect sleep to come easily that night.
It wasn't anxiety, exactly. Not fear. Just… awareness. Of everything that had shifted. Of the quiet weight of the ring on her finger. Of the fact that the life she had been carefully rebuilding piece by piece had just expanded into something bigger. Something shared.
She lay awake beside Alessandro, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, watching the faint glow of streetlight spill across the ceiling.
Fiancé.
The word still felt new. Strange in her mouth. But not wrong.
Not even a little.
The next morning, she called her mother.
She made coffee first. Sat by the window. Watched the city wake up the way she always did—taxis honking, people rushing, someone somewhere arguing too loudly for 8 a.m.
Then she dialed.
It rang twice.
"Hello?"
"He proposed," Sienna said.
No buildup. No easing into it. Just the truth, dropped gently but firmly between them.
A beat. Then another.
