Our fourth beach trip was the one that broke me in half. It was a hot summer day—the beginning of August always seemed warmer than usual, at least to me. My boyfriend, Tyler, and I had planned our annual beach trip, something we’d done every year for his birthday since we started dating four years ago. Tyler loved nothing more than waking up to a sunrise and a water view on his special day.

“Kennedy, we’re only going for three days. What’s all this stuff?” Tyler teased as I packed.

He said that every single year.

“I’m sorry, I need more than a toothbrush and one pair of underwear,” I shot back.

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

From the kitchen, his mom called out, “Now, Tyler, I taught you better than that!”

We all burst out laughing.

Tyler’s mom was watching our fluffy babies—our two German shepherds, Kirk and Spock. Leaving them behind was the hardest part; we usually brought them along, but this year we wanted a little alone time.

Once everything was packed, we kissed our pups goodbye, gave his mom a hug, and hit the road. At our first gas stop, I ran inside for snacks. As I walked back to the truck, Tyler leaned out the window and said, “Hey, what’s your name? Can I get your number?”

I laughed. “Check your phone—it might already be in there.”

The drive down was smooth. We blasted 80s music the whole way. Tyler drove while I sipped Pinot Grigio and sang terribly off-key. He complained jokingly, but deep down, I think he secretly loved it.

When we finally arrived, we headed straight to my parents’ beach house—they always let us stay there. I was starving, so after unpacking, we went searching for food.

I’d never been big on seafood (probably because I was forced to eat it as a kid), but Tyler loved it. He grew up on a farm, so he could eat anything—but catfish was his weakness. We found a cozy seafood spot and stuffed ourselves silly. I barely liked seafood, but that night I devoured it.

“Damn, Kennedy,” Tyler said, grinning. “I wish you’d nibble on me like that.”

We both cracked up so loud that people started staring.

I wiped my mouth and said, “Guess we better head back so we can catch that sunrise you love.”

He looked at me and smiled. “You are the sunrise I love.”

I blushed. “Aww, babe, you’re too sweet.”

After dinner, we headed back to the house. We both needed showers after the long drive—and smelling like seafood wasn’t helping. We cleaned up and slipped into our matching pajamas, which Tyler hated but always wore for me anyway.

We found a bottle of whiskey and took a few shots for his birthday.

“Cheers to twenty-eight!” Tyler said, raising his glass.

Four shots later, he was giving me that look—the one that melted me every time. Let’s just say the night ended in the best kind of way. They say it gets better with time, and they were right. We didn’t even make it to midnight before falling asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

At 5 a.m., Tyler’s alarm went off, but he kept sleeping. I turned it off, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “Happy birthday, babe.”

He stirred and asked, “Did we miss the sunrise?”

“No way,” I said.

I got up to cook him breakfast with the leftover groceries my parents had left—bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, and, of course, French toast. Tyler swore it was the best breakfast food in existence.

We packed up our food and a couple of blankets, then walked down to the beach. The sun wasn’t up yet, so we ate and talked for a while. When it finally started to rise, it was breathtaking—like time had stopped.

I glanced over at Tyler, and he was staring at the horizon with that same look of awe. In that moment, everything felt perfect. I closed my eyes just to soak it all in, thinking to myself—this couldn’t possibly get any better.

After watching the sunrise, we went back inside the house to nap.

“Kennedy, wake up!” Tyler said.

I opened my eyes and checked my phone—it was 4 o’clock in the evening. “So much for a nap,” I groaned.

We both got up and started getting ready. Tyler had reservations at a really nice restaurant for 6:30. He didn’t take long to get ready, but I was definitely the turtle in this race. By 6:00, I was curling the last few strands of my hair. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I caught him staring.

“Well, damn,” he said. “I didn’t know I had the most beautiful girl on the planet.”

I smiled. “You sure know how to make a girl blush.”

We headed to the restaurant he’d picked. I was a little nervous—his restaurant choices hadn’t always been the best.

“Close your mouth before a bug flies in,” I said as we stepped inside. “This place is incredible.”

Everything about it screamed quiet luxury. Tables were spaced far apart for privacy, the lighting dim and golden, glinting off hand-cut crystal glasses and porcelain plates. The décor was a mix of art and architecture—marble floors, velvet seating, and an open kitchen where a Michelin-starred chef worked like an artist.

Tyler began to sweat terribly during our last course. I asked if he was okay—it was freezing inside—but he just smiled and excused himself to the bathroom.

In the mirror, he took a deep breath, straightened his tie, and pulled the small velvet box from his pocket. The ring sparkled as he opened it one last time—just to feel the weight of what he was about to do.

When he returned to the table, I looked up and smiled, completely unaware. The soft music, the candlelight, the quiet hum of conversation—everything seemed to fade except him.

He paused beside my chair, heart racing, and dropped to one knee. His voice shook slightly as he asked the question he’d rehearsed a thousand times.

“Oh my God—are you serious right now?!” I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth as tears filled my eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening!” Laughing through tears, I nodded over and over. “Yes! Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

When he slipped the ring onto my finger, my hands trembled. I stared at it, speechless, as the diamond caught the candlelight just right. My voice softened. “This is the best surprise of my life. I can’t believe I get to spend forever with you.”

I leaned in, kissed him, and whispered against his cheek, “You’re never getting rid of me now.”

We left the restaurant still glowing, our laughter echoing down the quiet street. My hand trembled in his—my new engagement ring catching the streetlight.

The air was cool, the city hushed except for the hum of passing cars. He opened the car door for me, kissed my hand, and said softly, “Forever starts now.”

I smiled, still floating in the magic of the night.

But as we pulled out onto the road, forever came too soon.

A flash of headlights—too fast, too close—cut through the dark. The screech of tires, the shattering of glass, the world spinning out of control.

When the chaos stilled, the only sound was the rain beginning to fall. My vision blurred through tears and pain as I turned toward him—his hand limp in mine. Panic surged through my chest.

“Did anyone see that?” I cried, my voice cracking as I looked around at the empty, rain-soaked street. No one answered.

My engagement ring, once a symbol of our beginning, now glimmered faintly under the streetlight—marking the end of everything we had planned to be.