Chapter Eighteen
Aurora
The next morning, I can’t look my aunt in the eyes. I don’t know who that woman from yesterday was—because she’s definitely not me.
Aunt Céline is at the counter, kneading dough, and when she catches sight of me hovering near the doorway, she smirks, wiping her hands on her apron. “Rearranging things in the middle of the night, eh?”
Heat floods my face instantly. “Stop it,” I mumble.
Oh God, no. My aunt definitely heard me having sex. Kill me now.
“Mon Dieu, you look like you haven’t slept.” She raises an eyebrow.
I groan, covering my face. “Tante Céline, please.”
Her laughter fills the air, mingling with my utter humiliation. “Ah, l’amour. It makes fools of us all.” She turns back to her dough, still chuckling to herself.
Lucian has gone out to fetch groceries, and I take advantage of his absence to have a one-on-one conversation with my aunt.
“You always warned me about men like him. Why do you like him now?”
“Because I see the way he looks at you. If he were truly like the men I warned you about, he wouldn’t fix what he broke. He wouldn’t change. Those men take and take and never give back. But him? He’s trying.”
She’s right. I feel like I misjudged Lucian. I thought everything he did was because of entitlement, but now I know it was because he truly didn’t know how to tame his obsession. It still doesn’t make it right, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish things between us had started out differently. I always wanted a magical love story to tell my future children. But I’d also be lying if I said I wouldn’t go through it all over again—just to have this version of Lucian by the end of it.
“Don’t you notice, Aurora? The way that man looks at you?”
I do. I notice the way his eyes soften when I speak, how he watches me like I’m something he can’t believe is real. The way he craves my presence, my touch, and my voice like he’d die without it. I notice it every damn second.
Yesterday, I forgave him. I gave him my heart again.
When Aunt Céline’s voice breaks through my thoughts, I realize I’ve been staring at nothing for too long. “Aurora, love is not always beautiful. But it’s always worth it.”
“We booked flights back to Manhattan,” I blurt out.
“Ah, so soon?”
I nod. “Tomorrow.”
Her eyes search mine. “Are you ready?” she asks.
I nod again, but in truth, I don’t think anyone could ever be ready for Lucian Morelli.
Still, I know one thing with absolute certainty—if I stumble, he’ll move heaven and hell until I’m happy. But something pulls me to ask a question I already know the answer to. “Do you think I’m making the right decision?”
“You want honesty?”
I nod.
She taps my cheek gently. “That man looks at you like you are sacred. Like he would burn down the world to keep you warm.”
“That’s not always a good thing. It means he’d also burn down my whole world so I have nowhere else to go but to him.”
“No,” she agrees. “It’s not always a good thing, but it is rare—and stupid to throw away, if you can teach him to love you without fire.”
Before I can answer, the door swings open. The bell above it chimes. I clear my throat, wiping at the corner of my eyes so a tear won’t escape.
Lucian steps in, arms full of grocery bags. His white shirt is soaked at the shoulders from the rain, his hair messy from the wind. He looks devastatingly handsome.
“Mon Dieu,” Aunt Céline mutters under her breath. “You buy for a whole army?”
Lucian flashes her an almost boyish grin. “You said you live alone. I figured you could use a few months of supplies.”
“A few months? More like a year, monsieur.”
He shrugs, placing the bags on the counter. “Then you won’t have to go shopping when we’re gone.”
The “we” makes my chest tighten. We are a “we” now. And the fact that he’s taking care of my aunt warms my heart.
I move closer to help him unpack, and even the simplest contact with his skin sends sparks through me.
“You remembered,” Aunt Céline gushes as he pulls out a specific brand of honey she said she liked in passing conversation.
“I pay attention,” Lucian says.
When we’re done, Aunt Céline motions toward the small round table near the counter. “Sit. Let’s have tea before you leave me to my solitude.”
My aunt pours tea for all of us, then sits beside Lucian. “Take care of her,” she warns. “You’ve been given a second chance. Don’t waste it.”
“I don’t intend to.”
Lucian’s hand rests on my knee under the table, and I’m sure he’ll try his hardest not to mess up. But I notice a tremor in his hand, and before I can ask what’s wrong, he’s reaching into his pocket.
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
He drops to one knee. Aunt Céline covers her mouth, already tearing up.
Lucian looks up at me like I hung the stars. “I was going to wait until we were back in Manhattan,” he says. “But it didn’t feel right.”
“I swear to you, Aurora, I’ve never wanted anything like I want you. You deserve something beautiful, and I know I’m not that. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be.”
Aunt Céline’s sobbing. “Quel homme…”
Lucian opens the box to reveal one of the most beautiful, extravagant rings I have ever seen.
“Marry me. Not because I’m perfect. But because you own me—body and soul—and I don’t want a world that doesn’t have you in it.”
“Yes, Lucian,” I gush.
In retrospect, we haven’t known each other that long. Maybe we should have dated more before this or something—but when you know, you know. And I know that Lucian is it for me. Call me stupid, call me na?ve—I don’t care.
Lucian slips the ring on my finger, pressing his forehead against mine.
“You’re the light of my eyes,” he whispers.
Aunt Céline wipes her face with a kitchen towel. “Alright, enough tears. We open a bottle, non? This calls for celebration.”
Aunt Céline gets the glasses, pouring us champagne, but I can’t stop staring at Lucian—and he can’t stop staring at me.
I finally got my happy ending.