Founder of the Winslow Institute

Her hands slipped from his cheeks to his chest, her eyes on the ring. “It’s beautiful, Ro.” 

“I’m glad you like it.” Roman smiled. “I saw it and it just screamed you.”

“It was the least I could do,” she hummed, grinning softly. “I love you.”

Roman smiled. “I love you too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped package. Inside was a locket which held a small picture of them. He handed it to her. “Merry Christmas, Freya.”

Butterflies. She hadn’t felt butterflies in years. And now she had them all over again. She was engaged to the love of her life, the man she vowed thirteen years ago would be the only person she loved. Engaged to be married. “I love you,” she responded, her heart beating out of her chest as her hands cupped his face. 

She took him in, memorising his features as if for the first time in so long. He looked a lot older, in worry lines and stress. But in the moment, they were twenty-three and twenty-six again, lovebirds without a care. “We’re getting married,” she said, her voice practically resonating pride. 

“We are,” Roman agreed, a wide smile spreading across his face. He felt a little giddy, like a school boy. “We’re getting married.”

“Oh, you know. Not long. Four hours,” Freya hummed, pulling out a box for him to open. If there was something Freya did for Christmas, it was meaningful gifts. This one, however, had taken longer to figure out as she’d exhausted all meaning to most things. Until she came across the watch his Grandfather handed down to him. In a box, dusted, frozen and cracked. But in this box, it was restored, pristine condition and only in need of a quick winding.

“Four hours?” Roman shook his head. He took the box and slow unwrapped it. “Freya!” He pulled the watch out. “You shouldn’t have.”

Freya was taken back by the sight of the box, then when he went down to his knee she could feel the breath escape her. It wasn’t unexpected - even Freya knew that one day they would get married - but she was surprised by the timing. It had been a few weeks since their big fight, and while they had a great Christmas, she just wasn’t thinking this would be happening with how much they had been through recently. 

With that, though, there wasn’t a inkling of regret in the nod of her head when he asked the question. There was no hesitation with the “Yes, yes, a million times yes,” that left her red tinted lips in answer. “Of course,” she whispered, pulling him up and kissing him hard, wrapping herself around him. 

Roman wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes as her lips met his. He could not remember ever being happier than he was at this moment. He had been so stupid, not asking her sooner, but that hardly mattered now. They were engaged. They were going to get married. 

They had their whole lives ahead of them, just the two of them. For now, though. Who knew? Maybe in the future there would be three of them...or more. But right now it didn’t matter. Right now, Roman was indescribably happy. He gently pulled away and said softly, “I love you.”

Freya hummed, putting the finishing touch to one of the presents under the tree when Roman finally descended from their bedroom. She turned upon hearing his footsteps and smiled brightly. “Merry Christmas,” she exclaimed, her excitement obvious. 

@romanwinslow

“Merry Christmas.” Roman smiled as he bent down and kissed her. “How long have you been up?”

Well,considering Roman was working late, and Freya didn’t want to go home to an empty house, she sent young Sylvia home and did the end of day clean up on her own. 

When she got home, however, she was not expecting the candles to greet her. “O… Roman?” Freya shouted through the darkness, spotting the petals and a small gracious smile flickered on her lips, and she followed them. 

“This is awfully mysterious,” she mumbled, finding him. “What’s the occasion?” 

It seemed an eternity before he heard the door open and her call out his name. This was it. He fidgeted, feeling equally excited and nervous. Once she was in view, he rose to greet her. 

“The occasion,” he answered, taking both of her hands in his, “is that I need to ask you something. Something that I should have asked you years ago.” Then, slowly, he got down on one knee and pulled the ring box out of his pocket, opening it and holding it up for her to see. “Freya Natasha Mulligan, will you marry me?”