35. Amelia
Chapter 35
Amelia
I sit cross-legged on the floor, carefully placing photos into the album. My fingers trace the edges of each picture, lingering on the faces of my parents.
“You okay?” West asks, kneeling beside me.
A tear slips down my cheek, but I nod. “Just...” My voice cracks. “Just missing them. It’s hitting me how much they’ve missed.”
West wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest. In search of solace, I breathe in his musky cologne.
“They would’ve loved our wedding,” I whisper. “Dad always joked about walking me down the aisle. He wanted to see me marry someone I loved, like he did with Mom.” My chest tightens.
West kisses the top of my head. “I wish I could’ve met them.”
I wipe my eyes and manage a small smile. “They would’ve adored you.”
West stands, offering me his hand. “Come on. I’ve got something for you.”
I narrow my eyes as he pulls me off the floor. “Another gift? West, you’ve already given me so much.”
“Trust me, you’ll want this one. We need to go to the airport.”
“The airport?” Confusion must be written all over my face, but West grins. “Why?”
West grabs our coats, helping me into mine. “You’ll see.”
In the car, I fidget with my engagement and wedding rings. Sliding the metal around my finger. “Are we going somewhere far?”
West shakes his head. “Only two hours away.”
By the time we reach the airport, I’m a bag of nerves.
I can’t help but wonder where we’re going as we board the private plane.
My stomach churns more with anxiety than anything else. Even though Vincenzo is gone, I still feel uneasy leaving the safety of our penthouse in New York.
“West, where are we headed?” I ask, settling into the plush leather seat.
He takes my hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my skin. “It’s a surprise, princess. Just relax and enjoy the flight.”
Less than an hour later, the plane takes off. I try to calm my nerves by focusing on the comfort of West’s presence beside me.
After about two hours, the plane descends.
“Charleston?” I ask, peering out the window at the familiar landscape below.
West nods, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.
As we exit the plane, I’m surprised to see a black Escalade waiting for us on the tarmac. Even more shocking is the sight of Jackson and Callum already inside.
“What are they doing here?” I whisper to West as we climb in.
“All part of the surprise,” he says, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
The car travels for a while before pulling up to a familiar cemetery. My heart clenches as I realize where we are.
West leads me to my parents’ graves, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist. When we reach the headstones, he surprises me by speaking.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Morelli,” he says softly, giving them their real names. “I wish I could have met you both. I would have asked your permission to marry your daughter, but I promise I’ll always take care of her. As you did.. Thank you for giving her this life and bringing her into mine.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I lean into West’s embrace. After a few moments of silence, he gently pulls away.
“I’ll give you a moment alone,” he says.
I kneel on the cold grass, my fingers tracing the letters etched in stone. Tears blur my vision as I speak softly to my parents.
“Mom, Dad... I miss you so much. Thank you for everything you did for me. For sacrificing everything to give me a chance at a better life. I hope I’ve made you proud.”
My voice breaks, but I continue.
“I found love, real love. West is...he’s everything. I wish you could have met him. He makes me feel safe, cherished. I think you’d approve.”
I pause, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“I love you both. Forever.” Standing on shaky legs, I turn and head to where West stands.
When I get there, emotions overwhelm me, and I stumble. But before I can fall, his strong arms catch me, pulling me against his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into my hair, his steady heartbeat calming my racing heart.
I feel the slight grimace he makes as his injured shoulder takes some of my weight, but he doesn’t let go. He wraps his arms around me, and we stand in silence.
Only when I’m ready and composed do we walk back to the car hand in hand.
The drive is quiet. West leaves me with my memories.
The car stops again. I look out of the window, confused.
“West...this is...”
My parents’ home stands before us, exactly as I remember it. The white clapboard siding, the wraparound porch where I used to read for hours. It’s exactly as it was before Vincenzo stole it from me.
It’s the place I tried to buy when my inheritance was returned to me, but the owner refused to sell.
“How?” I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away.
West squeezes my hand. “I bought it for you. It’s yours again. All of it.”
I turn to him, speechless. He’s given me back a piece of my past, a tangible connection to my parents and the life we once had.
I stare at West, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. “How?” I say again, as I choke back more tears. “She refused to sell it to me.”
“Because it was no longer her home to sell.” He smiles, that confident grin that never fails to make my heart skip a beat. “I'd already bought it for you. I made the owners an offer they couldn’t refuse. It’s your wedding gift,” he adds.
I shake my head, overwhelmed. “It’s too much, West. This is—”
“Nothing is too much for you,” he interrupts, cupping my face in his hands. His thumbs gently wipe away the tears that travel down my cheeks.
I look back at the house, memories flooding through me. The porch swing where Dad used to tell me stories about his childhood in Italy. The flower beds Mom tended with such care as she sang to herself.
It’s all here, waiting for me.
“Can we go inside?” I ask hesitantly, almost afraid it might disappear if I get too close.
West’s smile widens. “Of course, princess. It’s yours to come to whenever you want to. We can bring our children here for vacations. Anything you want.”
“You’re so perfect.”
“Only since you came into my life.”
Before I can take a step, he scoops me up into his arms. I let out a surprised yelp, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
“Carrying my bride over the threshold,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s tradition, after all.”
As we approach the front door, I notice the keys dangling from West’s fingers. He manages to unlock it without putting me down, pushing it open with his foot.
As West carries me over the threshold, I gasp. The interior is nothing like I remember, yet it feels instantly familiar. Gone are the dated furnishings, replaced by sleek, modern pieces that somehow capture my essence perfectly.
“West,” I breathe, taking it all in as he sets me down gently. “This is...how did you know what I like?”
He shrugs, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I pay attention.”
I wander through the living room, running my fingers along the soft fabric of a plush sofa. It’s exactly the shade of blue I’ve always loved. The coffee table is a beautiful piece of reclaimed wood, like the driftwood I used to collect on the beach.
But it’s when I turn to the far wall that my breath catches in my throat. There, arranged in a stunning collage, are photos of my parents. Dozens of them, capturing moments throughout their lives. And right in the center, larger than the rest, is their wedding picture next to ours.
West stands behind me before his arms wrap around my waist. “I thought it would make you feel closer to them,” he murmurs in my ear.
Tears blur my vision as I lean back against his chest. “It does,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “God, West, it really does.”
I turn in his arms. My eyes are so coated in unshed tears that I can hardly see him. I shake my head in disbelief. “You did all this for me?”
“Of course,” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re my wife, Amelia. Your happiness is everything to me.”
I gaze into West’s eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love. This man has given me back the pieces of my soul that I thought were lost forever.
We stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, surrounded by the memories of my past and the promise of our future. And it hits me how far we’ve come. What started as a business arrangement—a transaction to solve our problems—has blossomed into something very real.
“I love you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “God, West, I love you so much.”
He pulls me closer, his forehead resting against mine. “I love you too, princess. More than I ever thought possible.”
I think about the girl I was when I agreed to West’s proposal. A scared girl, secretly alone, and sleeping in his office because I had nowhere else to go.
Now I’m his wife, standing in the home I loved. The home I feel my parents. And I feel safe and cherished in a way I never thought I would experience again.
West’s hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining. “Welcome home, Mrs. Davenport,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple.
“I can’t wait to build new memories here,” I say, looking around the room. “With you.”
West’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “Well, Mrs. Davenport, why don’t we start right now?”
Before I can respond, he scoops me up in his arms again, heading for the stairs. I laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carries me toward what used to be my bedroom.
But I realize that ‘home’ isn’t just this house anymore. It’s wherever my husband is.
He’s become my anchor, my safe harbor in the storm that has been my life.
And what started out as transaction I needed to change my life, turned into me finding the greatest love of my life.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.