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After a lifetime of waiting, years of saving, and months of planning, I was finally here. Antarctica. And it was every bit as stunning and magical as I’d imagined it would be.

“I still can’t believe we got to bypass the Drake Passage,” I said with a relieved sigh. “Thank God. Throwing up for two days would’ve been a real damper.”

Sailing through the Drake Passage had been my biggest fear about traveling to Antarctica. I got seasick easily, and I had not been looking forward to navigating the passage’s rough waves. Noah had solved the problem by quietly upgrading the entire trip and flying us in from Cape Town instead.

However, I’d paid for our entire penguin expedition myself. This had been my childhood dream long before it became ours, and it was important for me to contribute. I hadn’t saved and scrimped for so many years for nothing, and he understood that.

Noah laughed. “I had a feeling you and the Drake Passage wouldn’t have gotten along,” he said. “As happy as I would’ve been to hold your hair while you threw up, I’m glad that wasn’t necessary.”

I tilted my face up to his, my heart impossibly full. “Thank you again for doing this,” I said softly. “It means a lot.”

“Any time.” His expression was unspeakably tender.

I rested my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around my waist as we looked out at the vast, snowy landscape from the observation deck of our ship. We’d landed yesterday and were currently en route to see the penguins. We hadn’t spotted them yet, but what we saw was already breathtaking. I couldn’t get over the sheer immensity of our surroundings. The pristine white perfection and quiet magic of the least-populated continent on earth. Jagged peaks of ice towered over crystal-clear polar waters while the sun cast a million fractured diamonds across the sea and snow.

I kept touching the ship’s cold railings and sucking in lungfuls of razor-sharp air, unable to believe I was actually here. That this was actually real.

We reached our destination and disembarked on a small, inflatable Zodiac boat. I huddled close to Noah, letting his warmth ward off some of the chill.

I’d been prepared for him to miss this trip, thinking there was no way his club would let him take so much time off during the season. But the stars had aligned, and our Antarctica trip happened to land on the return of the Premier League’s mid-season break. The league got rid of the break years ago to accommodate an increasingly congested fixture schedule, but this year, the players all got time off in February. It was as though the league and the universe had conspired to bring us to this very moment.

“Carina.” Noah’s voice was soft against my ear. “Look to your left.”

I froze, my breath coming out in little white puffs. I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t realized we were nearing the shore.

I knew what I was going to see, but that didn’t make the moment any less magical, or the reality any less extraordinary.

I turned, my heart in my throat.

And there they were.

A full colony of Adélie penguins, their sleek feathers gleaming in the pale sunlight. Their chirps and calls carried across the wilderness and echoed off the ice cliffs.

I was so overwhelmed by the sight that I didn’t remember getting off the boat or taking my first steps along the shore. All I knew was that the penguins were suddenly all around me, waddling and shuffling in every direction. Their tiny feet left distinct impressions in the snow. We couldn’t touch them, but they were so close I could see my reflection in their eyes.

Seeing them yanked me back to eight-year-old Carina, who'd dreamed of Antarctica without having any idea where life would take her.

Twenty-plus years later, here I was.

I tried to breathe through the knots strangling my lungs. I should take pictures, but I didn’t want to experience this through a lens yet. I stood there, soaking in the details with my own senses. The sound of the chirps, the smell of the cold, the crunch of snow beneath my feet and the sight of dozens of penguins living their lives, curious but unruffled by their new visitors. Only when I’d committed every bit of the moment to my memory did I turn to see if Noah felt as awed as I did.

I stopped, the air in my lungs vanishing for an entirely different reason.

Because there he was on one knee, an open ring box in hand. A brilliant diamond blazed against a bed of black velvet.

My mouth opened, but no words came out. I could only stare at him, my mind buzzing with shock as Noah swallowed hard.

“I hope you don’t mind the timing, but I figured the penguins would be my best wingmen and wingwomen for this moment. Literally,” he said. I let out a choked laugh. He smiled, but there was a slight tremble in his hands as he continued. “I’ve spent so much of my life convinced that keeping my distance was the safest choice. That if I didn’t let anyone get too close, I wouldn’t get hurt. But then I met you, and you changed…everything. You showed me there’s more to life than duty. It’s not just about responsibility; it’s about the little moments too—the laughter, the adventures, the ordinary days that become special because of who you share them with. And I don’t know what the future holds, but I know you’re the person I want to discover it with. No matter what happens, I’ll choose you. Always and forever.” Noah swallowed again, his hands tightening around the ring box. “Carina Vu, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” The answer spilled out before the question fully left his mouth. My eyes burned with tears, and I didn’t have the emotional capacity to fully process what was happening or what I was saying. The events of the day had stripped me of all logical thought. But I didn’t need my brain to tell me what my heart already knew. “Yes, of course I will!”

Then we were kissing, and our guide was cheering and taking pictures, and the penguins were watching us, their heads cocked with curiosity. It was a whirlwind of mayhem and emotion.

But through it all, one thing was clear: I was exactly where I was meant to be.

NOAH

Four years later