The day had been a whirlwind—flowers, vows, champagne toasts, endless smiles for the cameras. By the time we finally made it to the hotel suite, I was exhausted.

Ethan, my brand-new husband, was still buzzing with energy, but I could barely keep my eyes open. The moment my head hit the pillow, I sighed, sinking into the plush hotel bed.

Ethan chuckled beside me. “Romantic start to our marriage, huh?”

I smirked sleepily. “Mmm… tomorrow. Promise.”

“Fair enough,” he said, wrapping an arm around me. “Sweet dreams, Mrs. Carter.”

I smiled at the sound of my new name but was asleep within seconds.

Sometime in the middle of the night, something startled me awake.

The bed was shaking.

I groggily turned over, my mind still foggy from sleep. My first thought was an earthquake, but when my vision adjusted to the dim room, I saw something that made my stomach drop.

Ethan wasn’t beside me.

Instead, he was at the foot of the bed, kneeling over an open suitcase, frantically digging through it. The entire bed shook as he shoved clothes aside, his movements jerky and desperate.

“What the hell are you doing?” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

Ethan froze, his back rigid. Then he slowly turned to face me, his expression tight with panic.

“I—uh—nothing. Go back to sleep,” he stammered, flashing a forced smile.

But I was wide awake now.

I sat up, my drowsiness evaporating. “No, seriously. What’s going on?”

Ethan let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I just… can’t find something.”

I glanced at the mess of our half-unpacked suitcases. “What? Your toothbrush? Pajamas?”

His jaw tensed.

Then, before I could react, he grabbed the entire suitcase, dragged it off the bed, and dumped everything onto the floor.

“What are you doing?!” I yelped, scrambling to the edge of the bed.

Ethan ignored me. His eyes were wild, scanning the scattered clothes and toiletries like a man possessed.

And then, suddenly—he found it.

A small, black velvet box.

I blinked.

“…Ethan?” My voice was wary now.

He gripped the box so tightly his knuckles turned white. He sat on his heels, staring at it, his entire body trembling.

Then, to my horror, he opened it.

Inside was a ring.

But not my wedding ring.

Another one.

One I had never seen before.

My heart plummeted.

“What… is that?” I whispered.

Ethan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I—I can explain.”

“Explain what, exactly?” My voice rose. “That you brought another wedding ring on our honeymoon?”

He exhaled sharply. “It’s not what you think.”

My mind was spinning. Had he… been engaged before? Was this a ring from an ex-fiancée? Or worse—had he bought it for someone else?

I felt sick.

Ethan finally looked up at me, his eyes filled with something raw.

“Nora,” he murmured, “I was going to propose again.”

My mouth fell open. “What?”

His fingers tightened around the box. “I wanted to do it right this time.”

I stared at him, utterly confused. “Ethan, we’re already married.”

“I know,” he said, looking down at the ring. “But… I screwed up our first proposal. You remember.”

I did.

It had been at a crowded restaurant, the ring stuffed awkwardly into a breadbasket because he thought it would be funny. I had choked on my wine when I found it. Instead of a romantic moment, it had turned into chaos—me coughing, the waiter panicking, Ethan blurting, “Will you marry me?” while slapping my back.

It had been horrible—but also perfectly us.

Now, sitting on the floor of our honeymoon suite, Ethan looked devastated.

“I wanted a second chance,” he admitted. “A proper one.”

I felt my anger fade, replaced by something warm.

“You mean… you were going to re-propose? To me?”

Ethan let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah. I wanted to surprise you. I planned this whole thing—dinner, a private beach, the works.” He sighed. “But then I forgot where I packed the damn ring, and when I woke up, I just… panicked.”

I glanced at the mess around him—the scattered clothes, the open suitcase, the ring box clutched in his hands.

And suddenly, I started laughing.

It started as a small chuckle but quickly grew into full-blown hysterics.

Ethan stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “Nora?”

I wiped my eyes. “Ethan, you—” I laughed harder. “You turned our wedding night into a catastrophe because you were looking for a way to propose again?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh… yeah.”

I shook my head, still laughing. “Only you, Ethan. Only you.”

He finally cracked a smile. “So… should I still do it?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Propose?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Properly, this time.”

I thought about it for a second.

Then, with a grin, I crawled off the bed and sat beside him on the floor.

“Go ahead,” I said playfully. “Let’s see what you got.”

Ethan took a deep breath, then turned to face me, his expression soft, serious.

“Nora,” he said, holding up the ring, “even though we’re already married, I want you to know I would choose you again and again. Every single day. So… will you marry me—again?”

I felt my heart swell.

There, surrounded by a mess of our honeymoon luggage, I fell in love with him all over again.

I held out my hand. “Yes, you idiot.”

He slipped the ring onto my finger—next to my wedding band.

And just like that, our disastrous wedding night turned into the best one of my life.