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honeydippedfiction · 1 month ago

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Wait For Love {qh43}

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Summary: Sometimes love takes a long time to blossom, especially when that person is your childhood best friend.

WC: 11.8k

Warnings: childhood friends to lovers tropes, angst, longing, repressed feelings.

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• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

A/N: Thank you Luther for the inspo💖

Knowing love the way I do

I can say for certain that it's true

There's a chance for me and you

The streets of the city feel colder than usual tonight, the winter air biting sharply at my cheeks as I walk. My hands are buried deep within the pockets of my coat, seeking refuge from the chill. The city hums around me—a constant buzz of life, from the steady rhythm of passing cars to the distant, indistinct chatter of strangers, to the occasional honk of a horn, a sharp interruption in the night. But all of it fades, becomes little more than background noise, a steady drone that barely registers against the weight of my thoughts.

My feet know the way; they’ve carried me this route countless times before. But tonight, the familiar pavement beneath me feels like nothing more than a stage for my restless mind, and it’s racing, circling back to one thing, over and over again: Quinn Hughes.

I’ve always prided myself on my independence. I’ve spent years learning to be comfortable in my own skin, growing into the woman I’ve always wanted to become. The girl I used to be, the one who hid behind walls of self-doubt, is long gone. I’m strong now, capable, the kind of person who doesn’t need anyone else to feel whole. At least, that’s what I tell myself. But there’s this quiet, persistent ache—a feeling that settles heavily in my chest whenever his name comes to mind. Quinn.

I surely feel like the time is near

The picture in my mind is very clear

I think love has brought us here

Quinn has always been there. He’s been my friend since childhood, the one who knew me before I knew myself, the one who saw me through the most uncertain parts of my life. For years, I carried a quiet, unspoken love for him, never daring to voice it. I told myself it was just a phase, something I’d eventually grow out of. But the longer time passes, the more I realize that it’s not something I can simply wish away. It’s not a passing infatuation. It’s something deeper, something that refuses to be ignored.

I remember not too long ago

I was just a lonely person with a lonely heart, yeah

And I was hoping there could one day be

Be a chance for me to...

I remember not so long ago, feeling... lonely. Not in the conventional sense—no, I had people around me, a family who cared, friends who made me laugh, a life that others might envy. But despite all that, there was a space in me that felt hollow, like something was missing, some piece I couldn’t quite identify. I used to tell myself it was just a phase. I was waiting, I thought, waiting for something—someone—but I didn’t know who or what. I nodded and smiled whenever people talked about love, about romance, the things I should want. But in the quiet of my own mind, it was always Quinn I was waiting for. I just didn’t have the courage to admit it, not even to myself. And so I kept silent, burying that truth deep inside, afraid that speaking it aloud might risk the one friendship I held most dear.

But I’m not that lonely person anymore. Not entirely. I’ve grown. I’ve evolved. The emptiness that once hovered around the edges of my life, like an ever-present shadow, is mostly gone. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself. Yet, even as I move forward, carving out a life that feels fuller, there’s a part of me that hasn’t changed. A part of me that still longs for something more—something deeper. And I’d like to think I’ve buried it, tucked it away beneath the surface, convinced myself it’s a thing of the past. But tonight, as the city lights blur in my peripheral vision and the crisp air fills my lungs, I realize I can’t pretend any longer. I can’t ignore it. Not anymore.

Get the love that I'd been missing

Sometimes love takes a long time

For a long time, I thought it was just about impatience. That yearning for something I didn’t have. But now, with clarity settling in, I understand it’s not about impatience at all. It’s about timing. About waiting for the right moment, for the right person. And tonight, my heart tells me that the time has come.

I don’t know what Quinn feels. I don’t know if he’s ever felt the same, or if he ever will. But one thing I do know is this: I can’t keep walking this path of uncertainty. Not anymore. I can’t continue down this road without facing the truth. I’m ready now. I’m ready to risk it all, to finally unfold my heart and see where it leads. I think... I think it's time.

But wait for love and you're gonna get the

Chance to love - wait for love, wait for love

Oh my

The memories of those summers are so vivid, so close, yet distant in a way. It feels like they could have happened yesterday, but when I reach for them, they blur at the edges, like pages worn with time. I can still picture the lakehouse, nestled in the heart of the woods, its weathered wood and moss-covered roof blending seamlessly with the towering pines that surrounded it. The scent of pine trees hung thick in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of damp soil and the crisp bite of fresh water.

The sound of the lake’s gentle lap against the shore was a constant, comforting backdrop, interrupted only by the crackling of the fire pit where we roasted marshmallows until they were charred and sticky, the taste of burnt sugar still lingering on my tongue. That lakehouse was more than just a vacation spot—it was our second home, the place where Quinn and I spent every summer, and where the bond between us solidified, becoming something unshakable.

We were inseparable, our families so close it felt like we were part of one large unit. Summers in that little cabin were days filled with adventure and laughter, and I was always right there beside him. It didn’t matter what we were doing—whether we were scaling trees to build makeshift treehouses that were more daring than structurally sound or wielding hockey sticks like swords, pretending we could conquer the world with nothing but our imagination.

“Watch out, Quinn! I’m coming for you!” I’d shout as I charged, hockey stick raised in mock defense.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Quinn would laugh, his feet barely touching the ground as he sprinted ahead, the wind whipping through his hair.

We’d race across the yard, our hearts beating fast with that pure, carefree energy that only childhood could provide. The park was our kingdom, and we were always racing to it, even when the air was freezing and the world was dusted in snow. We’d slip and slide across the ice, our fingers numb, our breath swirling in the cold air like fog.

“Think you can beat me this time?” Quinn would tease, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he skated circles around me.

“You wish!” I’d reply, pushing myself harder, though my legs ached from the effort.

It was in those moments, when the world seemed so simple, that everything felt perfect—like we were two kids with nothing to worry about except our next race or our next adventure.

When you take the chance on love you see

It's not a waste of time if you truly believe

The impossible can be

I can still see him, sitting across from me by the fire, the glow of the flames casting shadows on his face as he spoke about his dreams. His voice always had that eager, passionate edge when he talked about hockey, about one day going pro. His eyes would light up, that spark of ambition shining bright, and he was unstoppable.

“I’m going to make it, you know,” he’d say, his voice steady, eyes focused on the flames. “I’ll get there. Just wait and see.”

I’d nod, my heart swelling with pride for him. “I know you will. You’ve got the skills. The drive. You’ll make it big, Quinn.”

But deep down, there was something else that stirred in me. A yearning for something more—something he’d never say out loud, and something I could never admit.

“You really think so?” he’d ask, looking at me, his face softened by the firelight.

I’d swallow the words, knowing they would betray me if I said them aloud. “Of course. You’ve got everything it takes.”

But inside, I wondered: What if he saw me differently? What if he saw me the way I saw him?

He never seemed to notice how my heart would race every time he smiled at me, that small, knowing smile that was reserved just for me. It was a smile that could disarm me in an instant, yet I could never quite figure out if it meant anything at all. Was it just a friendly gesture, or was there something more behind it?

I couldn’t tell, but I cherished those moments anyway. Even though they were like daggers to my heart, each one a reminder that I was just his best friend, I kept them close, buried in the deepest parts of me. I couldn't bring myself to risk the possibility of losing him, of ruining everything we had, by admitting how I truly felt.

“Come on, you’re not seriously going to eat that much candy, are you?” Quinn would joke, as I stuffed another handful of sweets into my mouth, a sugary grin on my face.

“I can handle it,” I’d say through a mouthful, laughing at his disapproving look.

“You’re going to have a sugar crash later,” he warned, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” I’d reply, secretly thankful for the moment, even if it was just about candy and nothing important.

Quinn never seemed to notice the way I looked at him, the way my eyes lingered on him when he wasn’t paying attention. He cared, of course—he was always looking out for me, always the first to notice when something was wrong. He was protective in the way only he could be. There were so many times when I’d find myself leaning against him, his arm casually around my shoulders, pulling me into his warmth.

“You good?” he’d ask, looking down at me with that concerned frown, his hand brushing my hair back.

I’d nod, even though there was a weight in my chest I could never explain. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Quinn.”

To him, it was just a comforting gesture, something simple. But to me, it was everything. It was moments like that when I convinced myself, for just a fleeting second, that maybe he saw me as something more. Maybe, just maybe, he could one day see me the way I wanted him to.

So hold on tight if you think you're right

'Cause nothing hurts as bad as when you see

You gave up too easily

But the truth was harder to face as time went on. Quinn never saw me like that. He didn’t look at me the way I looked at him, and I could feel the reality of that truth settling deeper into my chest. I wasn’t just his best friend—I was the person who knew him best, the one he could always count on, but nothing more.

“Hey, you okay?” he’d ask sometimes, when I caught myself staring at him for too long, when my mind wandered off into places it shouldn’t.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I’d answer, quickly looking away, pretending I wasn’t just lost in the feeling of wanting something more.

Now I remember spending all my time

On a dream that kept me wishing that you could be mine, yeah

Even now, the memory of our late-night talks stays with me. The nights we spent under the stars, lying on the roof of the cabin, making promises that no matter where life took us, we’d always be there for each other. I can still hear his voice, soft and steady, his words filled with the certainty that our friendship was a bond that nothing could break. For him, it was just that—a promise of always being there. For me, though, it meant something more. It meant I could keep holding on to the hope that one day, maybe, he’d see me as more than just his best friend.

“I mean it,” Quinn would say, his voice serious, as we lay back, staring up at the stars. “No matter what happens, we’ve got each other. That’s all that matters.”

“I know,” I’d reply, my heart tightening at the weight of the promise, even though I knew what it truly meant. "I know.”

But even now, after all this time, that spark of hope refuses to die. I still find myself wondering, sometimes, if maybe—just maybe—one day Quinn will realize what’s been right in front of him all along. Until then, I’ll hold on to what we have, the quiet moments, the laughter, the promise of always being there for each other. It’s everything... and yet, it’s not enough.

And I was hoping there could one day be

Be a chance, whoa, for me to...

It’s strange how time works, how it stretches and folds over itself, and how some things remain unchanged no matter how much we grow. Here I am, in my early twenties, settled into a career I’ve worked hard for. My life is full in a way that makes sense to the world around me—busy with work, friends, the occasional weekend getaway—but still, every now and then, my mind wanders. More often than I’d like to admit, it drifts back to him—Quinn. I catch myself thinking about the way he used to be, the way he is now. Even with all the space between us, it feels like he’s always just there in the background of my life.

I remember one of the last phone calls we had, months ago. The sound of his voice still brings a familiar comfort, even through the miles that have grown between us.

"Hey, you busy?" Quinn asked, his voice like it always had been—casual, but with that spark of enthusiasm that never seemed to fade.

“No, just working on some stuff. What's up?” I replied, trying to sound relaxed even though the simple act of hearing him made my heart race.

"Just thought I’d check in. It’s been a while," he said, a soft chuckle on the other end. "How’s everything on your end?"

“Good. Busy, you know—same old. How’s the NHL life treating you?” I asked, my voice a little lighter than I felt.

He laughed, and I could almost picture the grin on his face. "It’s insane, honestly. Some days, I feel like I’m living someone else’s life. I never imagined I’d be here, you know?”

“I don’t think any of us imagined it,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “But I’m proud of you, Quinn. You’ve worked your ass off for this.”

“Thanks,” he said, his voice softening just a little. “It’s crazy to think about. Sometimes I wish I could share all of it with you… like we used to.”

Get the love that I'd been missing

Sometimes love takes a long time

And just like that, I was back there, sitting next to him by the lake, watching the water shimmer beneath the moonlight, listening to his dreams about making it big. Those moments were so real, so full of possibility. Now, it felt like everything was a little more distant.

“I get it,” I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “You’re living your dream now. It’s amazing to see.”

"Yeah," Quinn said, a brief silence stretching before he added, "But it’s not the same without you around."

The words stung in the best way, and I forced a laugh to cover up the way my heart was twisting. “You’re just saying that. You’ve got a whole new world now.”

"I’m not," he replied earnestly. "It’s not the same, you know? It feels like we should be out there, still making those stupid bets at the rink or building treehouses, like we used to."

For a moment, I closed my eyes, letting the memory of those days wash over me—the laughter, the freedom, the feeling of knowing exactly where I belonged. But the more time passed, the more I realized how different things had become.

“I know. Those were the days.” My voice was almost a whisper, heavy with unspoken words. “But you’re doing great, Quinn. You’ve got the world at your feet.”

“I guess,” he said, though the uncertainty in his voice made it clear he wasn’t entirely convinced. “But I still wonder, you know… if I could have had something more. Something like we had.”

More? The word echoed in my head. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Or was it just another reminder of how I’d always been in the background, a permanent fixture in his life but never more than that?

Before I could respond, he broke the silence. “Anyway, I should probably let you go. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said, my chest tight. “We’ll catch up soon, okay?”

“Definitely. Talk soon,” he replied, his voice soft, like he didn’t want to hang up. But the call ended, and I was left with nothing but the echo of his words.

We’ve kept in touch over the years, of course—texts, the occasional video call—but it’s never quite the same. We’ve grown into different people, leading different lives, and I suppose that’s how it’s meant to be. Life pulls us in different directions. But Quinn? He’s never truly left. In some ways, it feels like we’re still those kids—building treehouses, sneaking into the frozen park to play hockey at night—but now, when I hear about him, it’s not just the kid who passed me a hockey stick and shot me that mischievous grin. It’s the captain of the NHL Canucks. The man who has achieved the dream he used to talk about so fervently when we were younger.

I still remember that one text from him a few months ago. He had sent it late at night, a simple, two-word message that had stopped me in my tracks: "Miss you." I stared at the screen for so long, trying to figure out what it meant, why it made my heart beat faster. What did that mean? Was he just being nostalgic? Was he reminding me of the old days, the times when everything felt simple and easy?

I’d typed a response, then deleted it. Typed again, and deleted it again. I finally settled on something casual: “Miss you too. Hope everything’s good.”

He’d replied quickly, as if he’d been waiting for my response: “Yeah. It’s good. But sometimes, I wish we could go back to those days.”

I almost told him that I did too. That I never stopped wishing we could go back to the way things were, to the way we were. But I didn’t. I kept it inside, like I always did.

I’m proud of him. So proud. I watch from the sidelines, cheering him on as he rises to the top of his sport, a star now in a world I can only observe from a distance. I remember sitting beside him on the dock, listening to his hopes for the future as he stared out at the water. I can still hear his voice, full of ambition, imagining himself in the NHL, playing for a team, leading them, making his mark. I never imagined it would happen, not really, but here he is, living that dream. And there I am, just a little further away than I ever expected to be.

But no matter how far he’s gone, no matter how famous he’s become, there’s a part of me that still sees him as that same kid—the one who spent summer after summer with me, the one who would laugh so hard that he couldn’t breathe, his eyes sparkling with mischief. I’ll always see him like that, even when the whole world calls him a hero. He’s a star now. But for me, he’s always been more than that.

I’ve waited for so long. The years have stretched into a blur of "almost" and "maybe." Each time I think I’m ready to tell him how I feel, to finally let those words slip from my lips, the hesitation comes crashing in. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if everything we’ve built over the years crumbles? What if this whole thing I’ve built up in my mind is just that—a fantasy? Maybe it’s not even about Quinn at all. Maybe it’s about love in general, the idea of it. Maybe I’ve romanticized this so much, projected all my hopes and desires onto him because it's easier to do that than to confront the terrifying uncertainty of what love really is.

I catch myself at odd moments, reminding myself that love takes time. That waiting isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes, it’s about finding the right person, the right timing. “Sometimes love takes a long time,” I tell myself, over and over, like a mantra I need to believe. The doubt always lingers, of course. The wondering, the fear that maybe it’s all for nothing, that this waiting, this yearning, is just a cruel exercise in futility. But then, somewhere deep inside, there's this small, stubborn belief that it’s not. I can’t let go of the feeling that it’s all leading somewhere. Maybe it’s not now. Maybe it’s not tomorrow. But I have to believe that it’s leading somewhere.

I still think about Quinn, about us, about the bond we’ve always shared, the way it has always felt undeniable. Even when it was buried under layers of time, distance, and different lives, it’s always been there—this pull between us, something constant, something that’s never quite gone away. There are moments, fleeting and soft, when I’ll catch myself smiling at a memory of him—of us—and I wonder what would happen if I just let go of the fear, the doubts, and told him the truth. Would he feel the same? Would he be surprised? Would we even be able to go back to what we were before?

I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know what will happen between us. But deep down, there’s still this quiet part of me that refuses to give up, that still clings to the belief that love—real love—is worth waiting for. That maybe, just maybe, Quinn will look at me one day and see me the way I’ve always wanted him to. Maybe we were always meant to be more than just friends.

And so, I wait. Not because I have to, but because, somewhere deep inside, I believe it’s worth it. That one day, somehow, the timing will be right. And when it is, maybe—just maybe—he’ll finally see me for what I truly am: someone worth loving.

But until then, I wait.

But wait for love and you're gonna get the

Chance to love - wait for love, wait for love

Oh my

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

I hadn’t planned on seeing Quinn anytime soon. Sure, we’d been catching up sporadically through texts and calls, keeping the connection alive from a distance, but the reality of actually seeing him in person again felt like something out of reach. It had been years since our paths last crossed face to face, and I had almost convinced myself that it was fine—life moved on, and so had I. The occasional messages, the brief updates about his career, about his rise to fame, had to be enough. I had accepted that.

But there I was, walking into the charity gala, no expectations, just there to mingle, network, and maybe enjoy the night. I’d dressed up, made my way through the crowd, smiling and exchanging pleasantries, all while silently wondering if I was missing something, someone. Then, in the middle of it all, I saw him.

Across the room. As if fate had pulled some strings just to make sure we met again. It took a few moments for my mind to process the sight of him, standing there in his crisp suit, as effortlessly confident as I remembered. But before I could think, before I could even move, our eyes locked.

For a second, time seemed to stand still. The noise of the room—the laughter, the clinking of glasses—faded into the background. I couldn’t hear anything except the sudden, rapid beat of my own heart. His gaze met mine, and in it, I saw something I wasn’t quite prepared for. The recognition was there, of course. He knew me, I knew him. But there was something else now—a depth, an intensity that hadn’t been there before. His eyes seemed to search mine, as though measuring the space between us, as if he was seeing me in a way he hadn’t before.

And then, like a breath of fresh air, he smiled—the same smile that had haunted me for years. That little upturned corner of his mouth that always made my heart skip a beat. It had always been his signature, a smile that spoke of inside jokes, shared memories, and a connection that ran deeper than anything we could say out loud. But now, as he smiled at me, there was something more to it—a hint of something uncertain, like he was waiting for me to do something, say something, make the first move. I watched as his eyes lingered on mine for just a little longer than they should have, and my pulse quickened.

I couldn’t help but wonder: Was it just me imagining things, or was there really something there? Was it wishful thinking? Or was Quinn… was he looking at me differently? I couldn’t say for sure, but the way he stepped forward, just slightly, made my heart race with the possibility. Was this the moment I had been waiting for?

He didn’t break the gaze. Instead, he gave a soft laugh, his voice like warm honey as it reached me across the room.

“Well, well... Look who it is,” Quinn said, his words smooth, as though he’d been waiting to say that for years.

I took a step toward him, my body betraying the nervous flutter that had settled in my stomach. “Quinn,” I breathed, almost forgetting how to say his name, the familiarity of it making me feel suddenly small. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

The moment was oddly casual, but I could feel the tension creeping in, a familiarity now laced with uncertainty.

His smile deepened, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Yeah, same here. I didn’t think I’d see you again like this. But... I guess life’s full of surprises, huh?”

I laughed, though it came out a little breathier than I’d intended. “Definitely full of them.” I paused for a moment, unable to stop myself from adding, “You look... great. You’ve come a long way, Quinn. I mean... captain of the Canucks? That’s huge.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual modesty taking over. “Yeah, crazy, right? But I don’t know... I kind of feel like I’m just a kid in a grown-up suit sometimes. It’s hard to believe. And you? You look just like... like you always have. Still got that smile that could light up a room.”

I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, a blend of pride and something deeper, something that made my chest ache with memories. “I haven’t changed that much,” I said, though my voice had lost the usual steadiness. “Life’s been busy, but good. A little different, but... you know.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he replied, his gaze never fully leaving mine. “So, what’s new with you? What have I missed?”

It was such a simple question, but it carried so much weight. The past few years, the things we’d both experienced—it felt like we should be catching up on all of that. But even as I started to speak, I found myself stumbling over the words.

“Not much, really. Just—well, you know, work. Same old stuff. But yeah, I’ve had a few changes, a few milestones.” I laughed, unsure if I should dive into the bigger things. But he was waiting, his eyes encouraging me to share.

“I see.” Quinn’s voice had dropped slightly, as though the conversation had shifted in tone, something more sincere threading its way through. “I’m glad things are going well for you.”

There was a pause, a beat where we just looked at each other, and in the silence, I felt a flicker of something I couldn’t name. Something unspoken passed between us, and for the briefest moment, it felt like we were the same as we once were—those kids who sat by the lake dreaming, talking about the future. But then reality seeped back in, reminding me that so much had changed.

“I missed this,” Quinn said suddenly, his voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. “I’ve missed... us.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I smiled. “Me too, Quinn. It’s been a long time.”

We stood there for a moment, the noise of the gala around us fading as we settled into an unspoken understanding. The past, the memories, the history between us—it was all still there, lingering just beneath the surface. But something else was there too—a connection that had always been between us, one that hadn’t been fully explored, one that I now realized might never be if we didn’t take the chance.

“So, what now?” I asked, suddenly more aware of the distance between us. “How does this... how does tonight go?”

He shrugged, a playful glint returning to his eyes. “Well, for starters, we actually enjoy ourselves for once. No more distance, no more ‘maybe someday.’ How does that sound?”

It felt like an opening, like a door waiting to be walked through. I hesitated only for a moment, before a small, genuine smile pulled at the corners of my mouth.

“That sounds like exactly what I need.”

And in that moment, the air between us shifted, like a weight had been lifted. The tension didn’t disappear, but it felt like we had moved past it, past the years and the silences. Maybe this was the moment I’d been waiting for, the moment when everything could finally fall into place.

We exchanged a few more words, our conversation now flowing freely, but the undercurrent between us hadn’t changed. It had deepened.

I didn’t know where things would go from here, or if it was just a fleeting moment, but as we stood there together, talking, laughing again like we used to, I knew one thing: the timing felt different now. Maybe this time, things would fall into place. Maybe this time, the connection we’d always shared would become something more.

And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to believe it.

I never stopped believing there could one day be a chance

For me to…

I couldn’t shake the conversation with Quinn. It was like a small ripple in my mind that only grew larger with every passing hour. The sound of his voice, the way his eyes lingered a little too long, the weight of his words—it all felt so heavy, but in a way that was different from anything I’d ever felt before. I tried to push it aside, focusing on the mundane, letting the night pass like any other, but it followed me.

I tossed and turned in bed, replaying every glance, every smile. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, his expression, that smile that felt both like a memory and a promise. The hours drifted on, and with them, the clarity I had briefly felt began to dissolve, replaced by doubt. Was I misinterpreting everything? Maybe this was nothing. Maybe Quinn still saw me as just his best friend—the girl he’d known forever.

But then I thought about the way he looked at me, as though searching for something in my eyes, like he was seeing me for the first time. Was it just me, or had something shifted?

I pulled out my phone, thinking about the text he’d sent earlier that evening, casual and lighthearted. Was it just that? Casual? A little friendly banter between old friends? Or was there something more hidden between the lines? I stared at the message, but my thumb hovered over the reply button, unsure.

Was I supposed to make the first move? What was he waiting for? It was hard to know. The magnetic pull between us was undeniable. Every glance, every word, felt charged with some invisible energy. But he never took the step. Was it up to me? Was I the one who had to make it clear?

The thought gnawed at me. And yet, even the thought of confronting him felt like standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying.

I flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The more I thought about it, the more I doubted myself. The years apart could’ve clouded my judgment. Maybe I had built this connection in my mind, had let old feelings trick me into thinking that there was still something between us. After all, we were adults now. Nostalgia and memories often led us to romanticize the past.

But then, just when I thought I had this all figured out, the memories came rushing back—clear and vivid, like a tide reclaiming the shore.

Get the love that I'd been missing

Sometimes love takes a long time

I was fifteen, reeling from my first real breakup. The weight of the world felt like it was pressing down on me, and I had no idea how to escape it. I remember sitting on the swing in the backyard, my knees pulled to my chest, tears slipping down my face. Everything hurt—every thought, every breath. It felt like my heart was shattered beyond repair. And then Quinn had appeared, as quietly as ever, standing there in his flannel shirt and worn jeans.

He didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t ask me what was wrong or try to comfort me with empty words. Instead, he just sat down beside me, and without hesitation, wrapped his arms around me—just a little too tightly, like he didn’t want to let go.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice low and steady. "You okay?"

I shook my head, unable to speak. But he didn’t push. He just pulled me closer, letting me rest my head against his shoulder.

I could feel the warmth of his body against mine, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a silent promise, one that said he was there, that I wasn’t alone, even if I couldn’t find the words to explain how lost I felt. The moment passed without either of us acknowledging it, as though it were nothing. And yet, it had stuck with me, like a soft, lingering touch.

Was that a sign?

I pulled back from the memory, but others came flooding in—times when I was feeling down, lost in my own doubts. There he was again, always quietly showing up, always knowing exactly how to pull me back from the edge. When I was overwhelmed, when the world felt too heavy to bear, Quinn was always there. His presence was a quiet reassurance. He never asked for anything in return. I hadn’t realized until now how often he had been my anchor, how often his proximity had made everything feel a little more bearable.

I sat up, running my fingers through my hair. The night was quiet around me, but my thoughts were loud. And then, I couldn’t ignore the nagging thought in the back of my mind: Had he always known? Had Quinn, all these years, understood the depth of the bond between us? Had he seen something I couldn’t fully admit to myself?

The memory of our conversation that evening crept back into my mind, clear as day.

“You look great, you know?” Quinn had said, his voice warm with sincerity. “It’s been too long.”

I smiled, my heart fluttering in that familiar way. "You look just as I remember. Same old Quinn, huh?"

He'd chuckled softly, the sound like a gentle breeze. “I try to be. But... I dunno. It feels like a lifetime since we last really saw each other.”

The words hung in the air between us, and for a split second, I wondered if I had heard something more than what was said. He hadn’t just meant “seen” in the literal sense, had he? Maybe, like me, he was remembering more than just the time apart.

And then, as if everything had clicked into place, I understood.

For so long, I had been waiting—waiting for the perfect moment to tell him, waiting for him to make the first move, waiting for everything to line up in some kind of ideal way. But in all that waiting, I had missed the point.

What was I really waiting for?

I thought about the times we’d shared, the things we’d said without saying anything at all. How many times had we danced around the idea of more without ever fully stepping into it? How many opportunities had I passed up, thinking it wasn’t the right time?

I had spent all these years trapped in my own hesitation, constantly doubting myself, unsure of whether this was something worth pursuing. But now, standing here in the quiet of my thoughts, I realized something important: I had been too afraid. Afraid of confronting the depth of my feelings. Afraid of the uncertainty. Afraid of what it would mean if Quinn didn’t feel the same way.

But then another thought hit me—what if he did? What if, all along, the reason we had so many moments like that swing, like those quiet exchanges, was because there was something more there? Something both of us had been afraid to confront?

I stood up, pacing the room. I can’t keep waiting, I thought. Waiting for the stars to align, waiting for the perfect timing—those were excuses, defenses against something real and raw. Real love wasn’t about waiting for a moment of perfection. It was about taking a leap, even when the world wasn’t quite ready for it.

I had wasted enough time in this uncertain space, caught between what could be and what might never come. If I kept waiting, I would spend my life wondering, and that was the worst fate of all. I needed to know. I had to tell him.

No more hesitation. No more second-guessing.

The outcome, whatever it may be, no longer mattered. What mattered was that I couldn’t live with the doubt anymore. The fear of never knowing would always haunt me, far more than the fear of being vulnerable.

I grabbed my phone, my thumb hovering over his name. It was time.

I texted him: Quinn, we need to talk. Can I see you tomorrow?

The moment was now.

But wait for love and you're gonna get your

Chance to love - wait for love, wait for love

And you get the love that you been missing

A few weeks ago, Quinn had invited me to the lake house in Michigan. He’d said it would be just like old times—his brothers, their friends, and me, all gathered together in the place where we used to spend our summers. I couldn’t help but wonder if this invitation was his way of trying to bring everything back to how it used to be, before we grew older, before life became more complicated. But another part of me, one that I was afraid to acknowledge, dared to hope that maybe this time, things could be different. Maybe this time, I would finally get the chance to tell him everything I had been holding inside for years.

The nights at the lake house were quieter than I expected, especially after everyone else had gone to bed. The fire crackled softly, sending flickers of light across the porch, the flames casting dancing shadows on the walls of the house. The crisp scent of pine filled the cool night air. It felt like a dream—the kind of night where everything is calm, but there’s an undeniable tension in the air.

Quinn and I were sitting side by side, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, yet not so close that it crossed the line between friendship and something more. It felt… intimate. The kind of intimacy that made my heart race in anticipation, and fill me with the kind of fear that comes from facing something unknown.

I tried not to think too much about it. I tried not to think about how much I had missed the sound of the water lapping at the shore, the familiar feeling of being with Quinn and his family. The memories hit me hard as I sat there beside him. The laughter of us all together on the boat, Jim teaching Quinn how to drive, Ellen and I sneaking off for girls’ days while the boys did their own thing at the country club. Jack asking for advice on girls, Luke pulling at his curls with frustration and me helping him tame them.

So many summers spent together, countless memories etched into my heart. But now, those memories felt like they belonged to another life, one where we were all still children, and everything was simpler.

The boys had grown up. So had I.

And yet, Quinn was still the same. Still quiet, still observant. Still the person who could make me feel seen in a way that no one else ever had. The years between us, the time apart, hadn’t changed that. It had only made the feelings I had for him stronger.

I glanced over at him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the fire. He was staring into the flames, his expression unreadable. My pulse quickened. This is it, I thought. I can’t keep it in any longer.

“Quinn…” My voice faltered as I tried to find the right words. He turned his head toward me, his eyes meeting mine.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice soft, patient.

I swallowed hard. “I’ve been thinking… about everything. About us, about how things have changed.”

He raised an eyebrow slightly, the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You know, I don’t think it’s just us that’s changed."

I nodded, a nervous laugh escaping me. “Yeah. Everything’s different now, right? It’s not the same as it used to be.” I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with the sleeve of my jacket. “But some things... they’ve stayed the same. And I don’t think I’ve realized that until now.”

Quinn was quiet for a moment, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. The words rushed to the tip of my tongue, and before I could stop myself, I spoke.

"I never stopped believing that there could one day be a chance for me to get the love I’ve been missing," I said, my voice quieter than I had intended. The words felt heavier than I could’ve imagined. I swallowed, my throat tight with emotion. "I’ve always had feelings for you, Quinn… and I’ve been afraid to speak them aloud."

The silence that followed was deafening. It wasn’t just quiet—it was thick, as though the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for something. My pulse pounded in my ears. I could feel the warmth of my confession hanging in the space between us, the weight of it pressing down on my chest. I had said it. I had said the thing I had been too scared to speak for so long.

Quinn didn’t say anything at first. He was quiet—too quiet. His eyes met mine, searching, but I couldn’t read his expression. It was as if the firelight flickering across his face obscured everything. His features were soft, but his gaze held something else. Confusion? Understanding? It was hard to tell.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was low, careful, as though he were choosing his words with the same caution I had used. “I’ve always valued you, Y/N. You’ve been my closest friend,” he said, his words slow, deliberate. "But now... now, I’m seeing you in a new light. And I think… I think I’ve felt something too. Maybe I didn’t recognize it at first, but it’s always been there. I’ve just been scared.”

My breath caught in my throat. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I was hearing him correctly, or if this was just some dream I hadn’t yet woken up from. His words, so carefully chosen, matched the vulnerability I had just shown him. I felt my heart swell in my chest.

He shifted slightly, facing me more fully now. "I think I’ve been scared too," he continued, his gaze steady but soft. "Scared of ruining what we have. But now I see... I see that maybe we could have something even more. Something real."

I blinked, my mind racing to catch up with what he was saying. Could this be happening? Was this real?

Quinn let out a soft breath and smiled, a genuine smile that I hadn’t seen in years. "I’ve been holding onto what we had for so long, afraid to risk it, but now… now I think maybe I don’t need to be afraid anymore."

Sometimes love takes a long time

But wait for love and you're gonna get your

The space between us no longer felt like it had before. The air was different now—charged, full of possibilities. What had once been just a quiet friendship, built on years of shared memories and unspoken understanding, had suddenly evolved into something more. Something neither of us could ignore anymore.

The foundation we had built over all these years—the trust, the connection, the way we just knew each other—was the very thing that had made this moment possible. The love I had waited for wasn’t something that needed to be discovered; it had been there all along, buried deep inside both of us, waiting for the right moment to be recognized.

"Quinn..." My voice was barely a whisper, thick with emotion. He turned to me again, his gaze locking onto mine, unwavering. I could feel the weight of everything unsaid between us, the years of shared history now leading to this moment. "I never thought we’d be here. I never thought I’d be able to say this out loud, but... I think I’ve been scared of it too."

His hand reached out, brushing lightly against mine, the touch sending a rush of warmth through me.

And in that moment, everything shifted. Together, we were ready to face whatever came next. The fear that had held us back, that had kept us both standing on the sidelines, was gone now. It was time to take the leap.

For the first time in years, I didn’t have to wonder anymore. What had once been a dream—this love I’d been afraid to name—was finally becoming a reality.

“Me too,” Quinn murmured, his voice just above a whisper. And that was all we needed to hear.

Chance to love - wait for love, wait for love

And you get the love that you been missing

The moment hung between us, suspended in time, as if the universe itself were holding its breath. We had both said the words—the confessions we had kept buried for so long. The feelings we had been too afraid to acknowledge for years were finally out in the open. The silence that followed felt like a heavy cloak, but strangely freeing, as though the weight of everything unspoken had finally been lifted. I could feel it then—the tension between us, like a taut string vibrating with all that we had just revealed.

For a long beat, neither of us moved. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of us, the space between us charged with an intensity I had never felt before.

Quinn broke the stillness first. His voice was barely a whisper, raw with emotion. “I didn’t expect this… not now. But I’m glad it’s happening.”

I nodded, feeling the same uncertainty mixing with something so pure and sure that it left no room for doubt. “Me neither,” I whispered back. “I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

He shifted, his eyes dark and searching. “Why did we wait so long?”

I shook my head, a small laugh escaping me as I wiped away a stray tear. “I don’t know. Fear, maybe? Life got in the way? We were scared of ruining what we had.” The vulnerability in my voice matched the feeling in my chest—raw, exposed, but also strangely freeing.

Quinn’s gaze softened, and he took a small step closer, his body heat sending a warmth through me that steadied my racing heart. “I was scared too. Scared of losing you.” His voice wavered just slightly. “But now... now, I can’t imagine not taking this chance. Not with you.”

The sincerity in his words made something inside me flutter, and without thinking, I reached out, closing the distance between us, my hand gently resting against his chest. “Quinn, I—”

And then, without a word, he leaned in closer.

My breath caught in my throat. For a heartbeat, everything else faded away. It wasn’t just the sound of the crackling fire or the soft night breeze against our skin. It was just him. And just me. A quiet space, where the rest of the world—everything we had once been afraid to face—melted away, leaving only this moment.

Sometimes love it takes a long time

But wait for love and you're gonna get your

And then, finally, our lips met.

It was soft at first, tentative, like we were both waiting for some kind of confirmation that this was real, that it wasn’t just some dream we had been living in for so long. My pulse quickened, my hands trembling slightly as they hovered in the air, unsure of where to place them. But Quinn seemed to know. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, grounding me in this reality, in this moment that felt like a lifetime in the making.

The kiss deepened slowly, tenderly, a quiet exploration of everything we had been afraid to touch. It was as if we were savoring the very thing we had both waited for—our first kiss, yes, but also the culmination of all those years of longing, of hesitation, of what-ifs. His lips pressed against mine, a warmth that spread through my entire body, and I melted into him, letting go of the uncertainty, letting go of the fear that had kept me distant for so long.

When I pulled back just slightly, our foreheads rested together, my eyes still closed, feeling the rush of my breath as my chest rose and fell in time with the steady beat of my heart. A quiet laugh, filled with disbelief, escaped me—a soft exhale of pure joy, mixed with the realization that this was no longer just a dream.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, yet the weight of everything I’d kept hidden all these years was in those words.

Quinn’s thumb brushed gently across my cheek, the movement soft and tender, his other hand still holding me close, not wanting to let go. His gaze was full of warmth, his eyes darker in the low firelight, but filled with something undeniably genuine.

“So have I,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with the kind of tenderness that matched the kiss we had just shared. It was the most honest thing he had ever said to me, and in that moment, I knew—knew without a doubt—that everything had changed.

For a long moment, we just stayed there, holding each other, letting the afterglow of everything finally falling into place wash over us. I could hear the steady rhythm of my heartbeat in my ears, a reminder that this was real, that we were here, together.

Finally, the silence was broken, but this time, it was different—no longer awkward or uncertain. It was calm, peaceful, and full of meaning.

“You know,” I began, lifting my head to meet his eyes again, “I used to wonder if love would just... happen, you know? If it would just be some big moment where everything made sense. I thought I had to find it, chase it.”

Quinn smiled softly, his hand finding the back of my neck, pulling me close again, his lips brushing mine once more in a soft, lingering kiss. "Sometimes love doesn’t need to be chased," he murmured against my lips. "Sometimes it just... happens."

“I guess I needed to learn that,” I said softly, as if the words were a revelation. "That love doesn't always come when you're looking for it. Sometimes, it comes when you're just... ready." My voice dropped, barely a breath. "And maybe I was finally ready."

Quinn’s thumb found the curve of my jaw, the touch gentle but firm. “I think we both were. All those years… it was all just leading us here. To now.”

And as the night stretched on, we stayed close, holding each other. My heart was no longer filled with doubts or what-ifs. We had crossed that line. There was no more waiting, no more wondering. There was only the future ahead of us, uncertain in its own way, but certain in one thing: we would face it together. And that was enough.

I shifted slightly, pulling back enough to look him in the eyes, and a soft whisper escaped my lips, barely audible over the sound of the crackling fire.

“Sometimes love takes a long time,” I said, my voice barely a breath. It was a realization that had never quite made sense to me before—not in the way it did now. But as I gazed up at him, as I felt the warmth of his embrace, I understood.

I had waited for this love for so long, and it had been worth every second.

Quinn’s hand found the back of my neck, pulling me close again, his lips brushing mine once more in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was the beginning of everything. The beginning of our journey, together.

And in that moment, I finally understood: love doesn't always follow a straight line. Sometimes, it takes its time. But when it arrives, it feels like everything finally clicks into place.

And we were ready for it.

Chance to love - wait for love, wait for love

And you get the love that you been missing

Things were different now—better, but different. Quinn and I had finally taken the leap, crossing the line we’d danced around for so many years. It felt like we had unlocked something, as if all the years of quiet longing, uncertainty, and self-doubt had been leading us to this moment. There was a sense of peace that came with it, the kind that settles deep within your chest when something you’ve been waiting for finally falls perfectly into place. But even with that peace, we both knew there would be challenges ahead.

Quinn’s career in the NHL was demanding, to say the least. As the captain of the Vancouver Canucks, his schedule was grueling. It felt like he was always on the move, always in the spotlight, always under pressure to be the leader his team needed. There were long stretches when he would be away for days—sometimes even weeks—traveling for games, handling media obligations, and preparing for matches.

I understood it. I truly did. I knew this was the life he had chosen, and it was one he was dedicated to. But understanding didn’t make it any easier. There were times when I would sit in our empty apartment, thinking about how much I missed him, wishing we could share just a little more time together.

One evening, when Quinn had just left for a five-day road trip, I sat in the living room, feeling the quiet of the apartment press in on me. My phone buzzed on the coffee table.

"Miss you already," the text from Quinn read.

I smiled softly and texted back, “Miss you too. I’ll save you some dinner.”

His response came almost instantly. “I can’t wait. Counting down the days until I’m back.”

I leaned back in the chair, my fingers tracing the rim of my coffee mug. I could almost feel the distance between us, and for a moment, it felt impossible. But then, I thought about how we had always made it work. And we would continue to do so.

I had my own career, my own dreams, and sometimes those dreams took me down long hours at work—late nights spent hunched over my computer, diving into projects that had nothing to do with the love story we were building. But that’s the thing about relationships, isn’t it? It’s never just about the big moments. It’s the little ones, too—the ones that happen when you’re both in the same space, sharing your day, laughing over dinner, or curling up on the couch to watch a movie you’ve both seen a thousand times.

I told him once, "It’s not just about the grand gestures, Quinn. It’s about those small moments that make it all worthwhile. Like when we’re just sitting together, you know?"

He smiled at me, his face softened by the low firelight. "Those moments mean the most to me, too."

Sometimes love takes a long time

But wait for love and you're gonna get your

Chance to love - wait for love, wait for love

And you get the love...ooh yeah

Navigating the balance between our professional lives and this new relationship wasn’t always easy. There were days, many of them, when I felt like we were ships passing in the night—when the weight of everything else would threaten to pull us apart. And there were moments when I hated the way distance crept in, that quiet space between us that was the result of too many days spent apart.

There was a night when he came back from a trip, exhausted, but as soon as I saw him walk through the door, the flutter in my chest was back. It was like we were falling in love all over again. He pulled me into a tight hug, burying his face in my hair.

"I missed you," he murmured.

“I missed you too,” I said, my voice muffled against his shirt. “It’s crazy, right? How a few days apart can feel like forever?”

He chuckled softly. “Crazy, but it’s worth it every time I get to come back to you.”

I could feel the sincerity in his words, and I knew—no matter how much time we spent apart, we would always find our way back to each other.

It wasn’t perfect, and it certainly wasn’t always easy, but I learned something important during those early days of our relationship: love, the kind we had, takes work. And it was work I was willing to put in.

We made time for each other when we could. Even on the days when he was worn out from travel or I was buried in deadlines, we carved out moments that belonged only to us. We would share quiet evenings at home, just the two of us on the couch after a long day, exchanging soft smiles, and the kind of tender words that spoke volumes without being too loud.

One evening, after a particularly long day, I snuggled into his side on the couch. He kissed the top of my head gently, and I sighed, content. "These moments, Quinn... they make everything else seem like it’s worth it."

He smiled down at me, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. “I feel the same way. I’m glad we’re here.”

And when he returned from a trip, it was like falling in love all over again. That flutter in my chest—the same giddy excitement I had felt when we were kids—would hit me every time. It reminded me of all the years we had spent apart and how precious each moment together was.

We made it work because we knew how to support each other’s dreams, too. I cheered him on before every big game, sending him messages of encouragement, holding my breath through every goal and every loss, knowing how much it meant to him. And he did the same for me. He would listen patiently to my work stories, ask about my day, and offer unwavering support, whether it was through words or just a quiet hug. It wasn’t always grand gestures or showy declarations. It was in the little things—the small moments that made the biggest difference.

One night, as we were lying in bed, I turned to him, my hand resting on his chest. “I don’t know if I ever told you this... but I’m really proud of you, Quinn. You work so hard, and I see it. I see how much you give to the game, to your team.”

He kissed the top of my head, his voice warm. “Thanks, babe. That means everything to me. But you... you inspire me, too. You’re always pushing yourself, always chasing your own dreams. I admire that.”

Over time, I saw Quinn make more of an effort to prioritize us. He would plan visits around his games, carving out time for us, even when his schedule was packed to the brim. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I was waiting anymore. I wasn’t waiting for the right moment to come, or for him to realize what we could have. It was already here. It was real.

Sometimes love it takes a long time

But wait for love and you're gonna get your

Chance to love - wait for love, wait for love

And you get the love that you been missing

Looking ahead, I couldn’t help but imagine the future we were building together. It wasn’t just about the love we shared now—it was about the life we could create. The possibilities were endless. There were adventures waiting to be experienced, places to go, and moments to share that we hadn’t even thought of yet. And in the deepest part of my heart, I knew that whatever challenges came our way, we would face them together.

As I looked over at Quinn one night, his face relaxed in sleep, I whispered softly to him, "Whatever comes next, we’ll do it together, right?"

Quinn stirred slightly, his lips curving into a sleepy smile. “Always, babe.”

And in that moment, I knew everything was exactly as it should be.

We had found each other after all these years. And now, there was nothing left to wait for.

It was just the beginning of our journey. And I couldn’t wait to see where it would take us.

Sometimes love takes a long time, yeah

But wait for love and you're gonna get the

Chance to love - wait for love, wait for love

And you get the love, woo, that you been missing

As I walk through the city, the cool night air brushing against my skin, I can’t help but feel a sense of awe. The quiet hum of the streets, the soft glow of the city lights, and the rhythmic sound of my footsteps—everything seems familiar, yet so different. It's as though I’m standing in a dream, unable to fully grasp how far we’ve come. My mind drifts to the journey that brought me here.

I think about those days spent at the lake house, building treehouses with Quinn, laughing over silly childhood games, and dreaming of a future we couldn’t yet imagine. Back then, love was a distant thought, a far-off possibility that we never dared to chase. Now, standing here in the heart of the city, with Quinn by my side, I realize just how much we’ve both changed, how much we've grown together. The distance we've traveled—both emotionally and physically—has been more than I could have ever imagined. What we have now, this love, it feels surreal.

It wasn’t always like this. There were days when doubt clouded my thoughts, when I wondered if love, our love, was something that would ever materialize into more than just a dream. But then, I remember the moments we shared, the way he would look at me—his quiet, steady gaze that spoke volumes.

A memory pops into my mind—one from a few months ago, during a late night when we were sitting on the couch together. He turned to me then, eyes wide, as if searching for something.

"You ever wonder, you know, if we were always meant to be here?" Quinn had asked, his voice a little uncertain.

I smiled, leaning into him. “I think we’ve always been here, just... waiting to realize it.”

He chuckled softly. "I’m glad we finally did."

And now, here I am, walking through the city, reflecting on just how far we’ve come. In so many ways, the path to love has never been straightforward. It hasn’t been a series of romantic gestures or fairytale moments, but something much deeper, something rooted in the quiet understanding we’ve always shared. The silence, the waiting, the uncertainty—all of it was part of our story, and it wasn’t in vain. It was all about timing, patience, and the unspoken belief that the love I had been hoping for was always there, waiting for us to see it.

I used to wonder if it was worth it, whether the long stretches of distance, both physical and emotional, would ever lead me to where I wanted to be. There were so many moments of doubt, of fear that maybe I had been waiting for something that would never come. But now, with Quinn, everything feels complete. The pieces have finally fallen into place, and it’s as though all the doubts and fears I once had have been washed away in the calm of knowing this love is real.

As my mind wanders through memories, I smile softly, thinking about how far we’ve come. Our love wasn’t just a fleeting dream; it was the steady, quiet love that had been there all along, waiting for us to recognize it. Now that we have, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. There’s nothing we can’t face, nothing we can’t overcome. We’re in this together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever the future holds. And the future looks bright—brighter than I ever imagined.

Sometimes love takes a long time

But wait for love and you're gonna get the

Chance to love - wait for love, wait for love

And you get the love...

Then, my thoughts turn to a moment from just a few days ago. Quinn had taken me out to dinner, a quiet evening just for us, and as we sat across from each other, his gaze soft and steady, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine. It was a simple touch, but the way he looked at me, like I was everything he had ever wanted, made my heart swell.

“Can I tell you something?” Quinn had asked, his voice gentle.

“Of course,” I’d replied, feeling a little thrill run through me.

He looked at me for a moment, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re everything I never knew I needed. And I’ve waited so long to be sure of this.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a warmth through me. My smile widened, and I squeezed his hand. “I feel the same way.”

Then, just as we finished our meal, he took my hand in his, his eyes filled with something deeper than love—something raw, vulnerable, and real. He had been holding back for so long, but now, in this moment, there was no doubt. Quinn had always been the one. And when he whispered, “Will you marry me?” my heart stopped.

My hand instinctively pressed to my chest, and tears filled my eyes, the moment overwhelming. I didn’t need words to answer him—my heart was already shouting yes. The emotions flooded through me—relief, joy, peace—all blending together into one perfect, simple moment.

It was everything I had waited for. Everything we had been working toward.

The tears that welled up in my eyes were the only response I needed to give. I had waited for love—for this love—and now I was certain that it was mine, forever.

The familiar melody from an old song floats into my mind, as if the universe itself is reminding me of the journey we’ve taken. “Wait for love, wait for love, and you get the love you’ve been missin’.”

I smile, my heart full. I’ve waited, yes. I’ve waited through the years of uncertainty, through the moments where it felt like we were miles apart, even when we were right next to each other. But now, I have everything I’ve ever wanted. The love I’ve been missing is finally here. It’s worth every moment of doubt, every hesitation, every heartache. Because sometimes, love takes time. And when it finally arrives, it’s exactly as it should be—perfectly timed, perfectly ours.

As I walk through the city, the light from the street lamps reflecting off the pavement, Quinn’s presence lingers in my heart. I feel his hand in mine, even though he isn’t physically here. The future we’re building together is just beginning, and I know this love will last. No matter what comes our way, no matter the challenges ahead, we’ll face them together.

And as the city buzzes around me, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. The journey hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been ours. And now, there’s no more waiting. The love I’ve been searching for, the love I’ve always dreamed of, is finally here. And it’s more than I ever imagined.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see Quinn’s name on the screen. I smile as I answer.

“Hey,” I say, my voice light.

“I was just thinking about you,” Quinn’s voice comes through, warm and steady.

I laugh softly. “I was thinking about you too.”

And just like that, even in the hustle of the city, I feel like everything is exactly as it should be. Perfectly aligned. Perfectly ours.

Sometimes love takes a long time

Wait for love

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