Epilogue #4
"I know," I say. "But I want to."
His eyes search mine, and whatever he sees there softens his expression.
"Grazie," he says. "Thank you for being the best birthday present I could have hoped for."
"It's not your birthday, it's mine," I remind him.
"Non importa," he says, shrugging.
"What does that mean?"
"It does not matter," he repeats. "I got everything I wanted for my birthday, and I could not be happier."
"I hope I can always make you this happy," I say softly.
"You will," he says firmly. "I have no doubt."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because," he says, his hand lifting to stroke my cheek. "I have you, and you have me, and that is the only thing that matters."
My eyes sting, and I nod, unable to speak.
"Happy Birthday, amore," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
"Thank you."
I lay back on the blanket, and his weight settles comfortably over me. I sigh and wrap my arms tighter around his neck, content.
Well, content for now. I won't be able to lie here much longer.
Something bright flashes in my eyes, and I shift my head to try to block it. Also, I think a bug keeps landing on my finger.
There it goes again. I lazily shake my hand to dislodge the bug, and something bright flashes in my eyes again.
"As much as I'm enjoying this, I think I have to go inside soon," I murmur sleepily.
"Why is that?"
"Too bright. Too many bugs."
"Amore, there are no bugs."
"There is. I swear I keep feeling this bug on my hand," I tell him, waving my hand lazily, my eyes half-lidded against the bright sun.
"Are you sure it's a bug?"
"Of course it's a bug. What else would it be?"
"For the love of God, woman, look at your hand."
"Why?"
"Just look," he says, exasperated.
I turn my head, and the light catches a large ring on my finger.
I stare at it.
A square-cut diamond with several glittering baguettes on either side.
My jaw drops, and I glance from the ring to Mario, and back to the ring.
"Where did this come from?" I ask, dumbstruck.
"Fairies," he says sarcastically. "Where do you think?"
"Is this..."
"An engagement ring," he finishes.
"An engagement ring," I repeat dumbly.
"Yes," he says, and he's smiling.
"You want to get married."
"I do."
"Really? You’re sure?"
"Really. I’m sure," he agrees, grinning.
"But we haven't talked about it."
"Do you not want to?"
"Of course I do," I say, sitting up.
I stare at the ring again.
"Is this real?"
"Very," he confirms.
"Holy shit."
He laughs and rolls over with me in his arms, taking me with him until I'm splayed over him.
"Victoria," he says.
"Yes," I whisper, tearing my eyes off the ring to look at him.
"Will you marry me?"
"Of course," I whisper, and my vision goes blurry with happy tears.
"Grazie," he murmurs, his voice low and full of emotion.
"I should be thanking you," I say, and the tears start to fall.
"Never," he says, leaning up and kissing them away. "Never, mia amore. You are everything. My greatest treasure."
I sniffle.
"So...you like it, then?" he asks. "The ring?"
I laugh and lean down, kissing him hard.
"Yes," I murmur against his lips. "I love it."
"Good," he says, his arms wrapping around me.
"But," I say, holding up my hand, "this ring is a lot. It's huge."
He takes my hand to study the ring. "You didn't seem to mind it while we were fucking."
"Well—" My mouth drops open as his words register. "What?"
He looks up at me with an innocent expression. "It is a lot, is it not? Big, flashy, a bit gaudy, even."
"Mario—"
"I want the world to know you belong to me now. So there’s never any doubt about it," he says, a glint in his eye."
"You are not funny." I smack his chest. "When did you put this thing on me?"
"When I was tying your hands," he says.
"Why?"
"I wanted to see your face once I untied your hands and you found it.”
"Oh," I whisper, the words shooting right between my legs.
"Mmm, your expression was quite a sight," he says, his hands skimming over my back.
"And?"
"And, I think it is perfect," he says, taking my hand and kissing the ring. "And you are perfect. And I love you."
I sniffle, and he pulls me down for a kiss.
"Now," he murmurs, his arms going around me again, "since we've properly celebrated your birthday. How do you want to celebrate our engagement?"
"Well," I say, my voice husky, "we could stay out here, or..."
"Or?"
"You could carry me back inside, and we could see how this thing holds up in the shower."
"Hmmm," he says, and the sound is full of dark promises.
"I'll take that as a yes," I say, kissing him hard.
He chuckles and returns the kiss.
And when we break apart, his smile is the happiest one I've ever seen.
"Come," he says, lifting us both into a sitting position.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to carry my fiancée into the house and have her in the shower. Maybe we'll make a stop at the kitchen counter first. Or perhaps the dining table again. The couch?"
"I think we should try them all. Just to see how the ring fares."
"My thoughts exactly, cara. My exact thoughts."
And with that, he lifts me into his arms and carries me back into our home.
THE END