Chapter 85: Her First Ferris Wheel
Saturday had barely slipped into noon when Val dropped it. No warning, no buildup—just her voice cutting through the silence of my living room while she sat curled up on the couch, knees tucked under her, sketching aimlessly on the corner of a notebook she wasn’t even pretending to focus on anymore.
> "I want to go to an amusement park."
I blinked at her from across the room, halfway through tying my shoes. "Really? An amusement park? Val, you’re not a kid."
She didn’t snap back like she usually would. Didn’t even look at me. Instead, her gaze dropped to the floor, fingers still fidgeting with her pen. Her voice came out softer, quieter, almost like she was confessing a secret.
> "I’ve never really gone to one before."
That stopped me cold.
"You haven’t?" The disbelief slipped out before I could stop it.
Her head gave the smallest shake. "My family only ever took me to... functions. Dinners. Charity galas. Those rich people meet-and-greets where kids are supposed to smile and sit still so they don’t embarrass their last name. That was my... childhood. No rides. No cotton candy. No bumper cars. Just... boring dresses and fake smiles."
She still wasn’t looking at me. And for a moment, neither of us spoke.
Something in my chest clenched tight, the ache immediate and sharp. I thought of her parents—of the Moreaus and all their glittering, suffocating wealth—and I hated them in that moment. Hated that they’d robbed her of something so simple. Something every kid should’ve had without question. Who cared about their private yachts and estates when they couldn’t give their daughter a damn carousel ride?
She shifted, maybe because she could feel me staring too hard. Her lips tugged upward, but not in amusement—more like she was trying to stop herself from looking pitiful. "I’m not saying it to blackmail you into taking me or anything. I’m just—"
"Val." I cut her off before she could even finish, my tone firmer than I expected. Because she didn’t need to justify it. Not to me.
She finally looked up then, eyes meeting mine, wide and searching. And in the softest, almost hesitant voice, she asked, "So... yes?"
I let out a slow breath. Like I ever stood a chance.
"Yeah. Yes."
And just like that, her whole face lit up.
Her beam was blinding, the kind of grin that punched all the air out of my lungs because I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her look so... unguarded. So purely happy. She dropped her notebook, bouncing up to her feet like she was five again. "Okay, then! What do I even wear? Do I go cute or practical? Ugh, both. I’ll figure it out."
I couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out, shaking my head as she spun toward Duchess, who had been lounging on the windowsill like she owned the place. "You’re coming too, obviously," she told the cat seriously. "You’ll love it. So many new things to see. Don’t worry, Mommy will keep you safe."
Duchess blinked slowly, unimpressed, and flicked her tail.
Val clasped her hands together like she was holding back squeals. "Oh, oh! Cotton candy! I’ve only ever seen it in movies. I want the pink one. Or maybe blue. Or both." She turned back to me, eyes shining. "You’ll win me one of those giant teddy bears, right?"
I swallowed, my chest still aching even while my lips tugged upward. She was ecstatic, already painting the day in her head with colors she never got as a kid. And me? I was stuck somewhere between wanting to laugh with her and wanting to punch her parents in the face for letting her grow up thinking this kind of happiness was optional.
She deserved this. She deserved all of it.
And the cruel part was, she didn’t even realize how much she’d been denied until now.
I leaned back on the couch, arms folded, just watching her ramble and wave her hands while she paced like she was planning a heist instead of a day trip. She listed rides she wanted to try—roller coasters, spinning teacups, Ferris wheel. She even declared she’d drag me onto every single one, no excuses.
"You’re terrified of heights," I pointed out, amused.
> "I’ll close my eyes."
"You’ll scream."
She smirked. "Then you’ll hold my hand."
I ran a hand down my face, trying and failing to hide my laugh. "You’re insane."
She grinned wider, unbothered. "And you love me anyway."
I didn’t answer that one. Not out loud.
Because as I watched her, cheeks flushed from excitement, eyes sparkling like she was trying to catch up on years she never had, I realized something else: I’d thought I knew her.
Last night I learned she had no friends growing up.
Now I learned she’d never even had a stupid Ferris wheel ride.
And it made me wonder—what else didn’t I know? How much more was she holding inside, smiling through, hiding behind her jokes and dramatic flair?
Val stopped mid-ramble, looking back at me with that playful squint she always used when she knew I was thinking too hard. "You’re not allowed to brood when I’m happy, husband. Stop that."
I lifted my brows. "I’m not brooding."
"You are. Your eyebrows get all scrunchy." She reached over and poked my forehead, giggling when I swatted her hand away. "Don’t ruin this for me, okay? Just say yes and smile."
So I smiled. I nodded. I said, "Yes."
Because hell if I was ever going to say no to her again.
---
Two hours later, I was parking her car in front of the biggest, most obnoxious amusement park in the city while she practically bounced in her seat like a kid on too much sugar.
She pressed her palms to the window, eyes wide. "Look! Look at the Ferris wheel! It’s huge."
I chuckled, shutting the engine off. "You’ve said that about five times since we left the highway."
"It’s still huge," she insisted, turning toward me, her grin so wide I thought her cheeks would cramp. "You’re not even impressed?"
I shrugged. "It’s a Ferris wheel, Val. It spins."
She gasped like I’d insulted the crown jewels. "You’re impossible. I’m going on that first."
"Of course you are," I muttered, shaking my head.
When I opened my door, she grabbed my wrist, stopping me. Her excitement faltered, just for a second, and her lashes lowered. "Do you... think I’m ridiculous?"
That quiet, unsure tone threw me. "Ridiculous?"
"Yeah." She bit her lip, looking down at her lap. "I mean—I’m not a kid anymore. I’m... me. Maybe I should’ve grown out of this kind of thing. Wanting to run around in a park like I’m twelve. It’s dumb, isn’t it?"
Something heavy dropped in my chest.
I reached over, cupping her chin until she met my eyes again. "Val. It’s not dumb. You didn’t get to do this when you were younger, right?"
She shook her head.
"Then you do it now. And you do it as much as you want." My voice was firmer than I meant, but I didn’t care. "You’re not too old. You’re never too old to be happy."
Her lips twitched into the tiniest smile. "Husband."
"What?"
"That was..." She leaned in and kissed my cheek, quick and soft. "That was maybe the sweetest thing you’ve ever said."
I groaned, shoving my door open. "Come on before you start crying and I regret saying it."
She laughed, following me out, all traces of hesitation gone.
---
The first obstacle we hit was the ticket booth. Or rather—the "no pets" sign plastered everywhere.
I sighed, watching as Val clutched Duchess’s carrier to her chest like a mother protecting her baby.
"They said no pets, babe," she whispered dramatically, her eyes darting to the security guard.
"I can read."
Her jaw set stubbornly. "She’s not a pet. She’s family."
"She’s a cat."
> "She’s my daughter."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You cannot smuggle a cat into—"
Before I could finish, she slipped her sleek black credit card onto the counter with a sweet smile that could buy kingdoms.
Ten minutes later, Duchess was strolling through the park in her carrier, wearing a little pink bow Val had dug out of her bag.
I stared down at the card as Val tucked it away smugly. "You just bribed an amusement park."
"Correction," she chirped, looping her arm through mine. "I invested in Duchess’s happiness."
"She’s a cat, Val. She doesn’t even like crowds."
Duchess yawned from her carrier, proving my point.
Val ignored me completely. "First ride—Ferris wheel."
---
I’ll admit it. Watching her step into the cart, eyes huge, smile practically glowing, made something ache in me.
She pressed her face to the glass as the wheel began to turn. "Oh my God. Look! Look at the view!"
I looked. Not at the skyline, not at the glittering city spread out beneath us, but at her.
At the way the sunlight caught her hair. At the way her laughter spilled so freely I could almost forget the weight she carried behind it.
She caught me staring and smirked. "What?"
"Nothing."
> "Liar."
"Fine. You’re cute when you’re excited."
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she tried to hide it by pretending to look back out the window.
From there, it was chaos.
She dragged me onto every ride in sight. Teacups? Spinning so fast I nearly lost my lunch. Roller coasters? She screamed like she was being murdered, then demanded we ride again. Haunted house? She clung to my arm and pretended to be scared, but her giggles gave her away.
Everywhere we went, she had this glow about her. Like a little kid seeing the world for the first time. And it killed me, because she should’ve had this years ago. She should’ve had dozens of days like this.
But if this was her first, then I was going to make damn sure it was perfect.
At one point, she stopped at a cotton candy stand, pointing with both hands like it was treasure. "Pink. Definitely pink."
I handed the vendor cash and passed her the biggest puffball of sugar I’d ever seen. She took one bite and gasped, eyes lighting up. "Kai! It melts. In. My. Mouth!"
I laughed so hard people turned to look. "That’s kind of the point."
She shoved a piece into my mouth before I could dodge. "See?"
I chewed, sticky sugar sticking to my tongue. "Sweet. Like you."
Her cheeks turned red again, and she shoved more into my face to hide it.
---
By afternoon, we stumbled toward a game booth. She clasped her hands together dramatically, eyes wide. "Win me that bear."
I eyed the rigged bottles stacked in a pyramid. "Val..."
> "You promised."
"I didn’t promise—"
Her pout killed me. "Husband."
I sighed, handing the guy my money. Fifteen failed throws later, I finally knocked the bottles down. The vendor begrudgingly handed over a bear nearly half Val’s size.
She squealed, hugging it so tight her face disappeared behind the fluff. "You did it!"
I smirked. "Never doubted myself."
> "Liar."
She hugged the bear tighter, smiling so bright my chest ached.
---
As the sun dipped low, painting the sky in gold and pink, we sat on a bench, Duchess asleep in her carrier beside us, the giant bear perched at Val’s side.
She leaned her head on my shoulder, quiet for once. Just breathing, soft and steady.
"You know..." Her voice was low, thoughtful. "This is one of the happiest days I’ve ever had."
I swallowed hard. "Good. Then we’ll have more."
She tilted her face up, smiling softly. "Promise?"
I looked at her, the girl who could destroy me with one pout, who carried loneliness behind every grin, and nodded. "Promise."
Her smile widened, and she laughed under her breath, light and sweet.
And as I watched her, cheeks flushed from sugar and wind, laughter still lingering in the air, I thought to myself—
Maybe this is what love looks like. Not grand gestures or perfect words. Just... giving someone all the days they should’ve had and never got.
---
To be continued...