Chapter 11 Antonio
Antonio
Something has been off with Jasmine for the past two weeks, and I can’t figure out what.
On the surface, everything is fine. She texts me back. She lets me take her out to dinner. She smiles when I show up at her apartment unannounced, but there’s a distance I can’t name.
I’ve asked several times if something’s bothering her, and each time she waved me off.
“I’m tired, Antonio. Growing a human is exhausting.”
“Third trimester hormones. The books warned you about this.”
“I’m just stressed about how the book will be received. It’s a lot of pressure.”
The excuses are reasonable, but I know her now. There’s a difference between her tired and her guarded. And for two weeks, she’s been guarded.
I’ve replayed every conversation, every moment, trying to find where I went wrong. Did I say something? Forget something? Push too hard or not hard enough?
Nothing. I come up empty every time.
So I do what I can. I show up. I bring her food. I text her good morning and call her every night before she falls asleep. I keep reaching for her, hoping she’ll eventually reach back the way she used to.
And I wait. Because whatever this is, she’ll tell me when she’s ready.
She has to.
The cushion-cut diamond engagement ring with smaller stones along the band in my pocket has been waiting for the right moment.
I’ve thought about proposing a dozen different ways. At Sunday dinner with my family, surrounded by everyone we loved. During our picnic in the park, when she’d fallen asleep against my shoulder. The night she let me win at video games, though she denies it to this day.
Each time, something stopped me. The moment wasn’t right. She wasn’t looking at me the way I needed her to look at me.
But as I watch Jasmine laugh with our friends on a Maldivian beach, I know I can’t wait anymore. The distance hasn’t entirely disappeared, but I can’t let fear stop me.
I love her. I want to build a life with her. And this is how I show her I’m all in, no matter what.
We’ve been here four days for Jessa and Jaxon’s wedding. Yesterday’s ceremony took place on a private sandbank, surrounded by nothing but crystal water and sky.
Tonight, we’re gathered around a long table on the beach with tiki torches flickering in the warm breeze. The food is incredible. The company is better.
Jessa and Jaxon sit at the head of the table, glowing with that disgustingly happy newlywed energy, unable to stop touching each other. Connor and Meesha are across from us, radiating their own married bliss. Kamal holds court at his end, spinning some story that has everyone in stitches.
And Jasmine sits beside me, one hand resting on her thirty-two-week belly, more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. Her pink dress catches the firelight, and the small pink flowers Meesha wove through her braids earlier gleam in the glow.
She is breathtaking. She is perfect. She is mine.
Almost mine.
“To Jessa and Jaxon,” Connor says, raising his glass. “May your marriage—”
“Include a very generous shoe allowance,” Meesha cuts in.
Everyone laughs. Glasses clink.
Jasmine leans into my side, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders.
“And to Jasmine,” Jessa adds, lifting her champagne. “For landing a TV deal for her series. Who says you can’t build an empire while building a human?”
“One’s significantly easier than the other,” Jasmine says.
“And yet you’re doing both beautifully,” Jessa replies.
More clinking. More laughter. The night is warm and easy, and I can feel the ring box pressing against my thigh.
“So, Jas,” Kamal says, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin, “if you ever need inspiration for your books, I’m available. I can be your muse anytime you wish.”
He’s fucking with me, but my jaw tightens with a prickle of irritation, anyway.
“I appreciate that, Kamal. But this little one’s,” Jasmine points at her stomach, “been keeping me plenty inspired.”
“And I got to help with that,” I say, squeezing her shoulder. “Best collaboration of my life.”
Jasmine glances up at me, and when she smiles, there’s something soft in her eyes. Then she looks away, and it’s gone.
“Point made,” Kamal says dryly.
“Point always made,” I reply.
After dinner, dessert, and more toasting than any group of people should reasonably do, the party finally winds down. Jessa and Jaxon disappear first, not subtle about why. Connor and Meesha follow soon after, and Kamal heads to the bar to charm the bartender.
“Walk with me?” I ask Jasmine.
“I’m pretty tired, Antonio. It’s been a long night.”
“Just a short one. There’s something I want to show you.”
She hesitates, looking toward the direction of our villa.
“Please,” I add. “You won’t regret it.”
Something in my voice must reach her, because she nods. “Okay. Five minutes.”
I help her up, and she takes my hand. She’s bigger now, and I find myself watching her feet as we walk, ready to catch her if she stumbles.
The beach is empty. Moonlight silvers the sand and the water.
I sense the tension radiating from her as we walk. Whatever has been building these past two weeks is right there.
“Jasmine,” I say quietly, stopping. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t. Something’s been off with you for weeks, and I need to know what it is to fix it. Did I do something? Say something?”
She pulls her hand from mine, wrapping her arms around herself despite the warm night. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing if it’s putting this distance between us.” I step closer. “Talk to me. Please.”
“I heard you on the phone with Carmen.”
“Okay, and?”
She takes a breath. “You said you wouldn’t marry me. I get it. We never talked about marriage. This was always about the baby, and you’re here because you’re a good man who takes responsibility. I knew that from the beginning.”
“You think I’m only here because of our daughter?”
“Aren’t you?” Her voice breaks. “Everything we have is because...”
“Stop.” I take her face in my hands, making her look at me.
“My mother has been calling me every day for weeks, asking when I’m going to propose.
Telling me it’s improper and disrespectful for you to be having my baby without a ring.
” I brush my thumb across her cheekbone.
“I told her I wouldn’t propose because I wanted her to stop pressuring me.
Because when I asked you to marry me, it needed to be because we were ready. Not because she thought we should.”
“Antonio...”
“I love you,” I say.
Jasmine freezes. “What?”
“I love you.” I take both her hands in mine. “I’ve been trying to find the perfect way to say it, but there isn’t one. So I’m just saying it. I love you, Jasmine.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “Are you sure?”
“A billion percent.” I brush my thumb across her knuckles. “I love your strength. How you say more in five words than I do in fifty. That dry humor only I get to see. There is no other woman better suited for me.”
I used to wonder if I’d repeat my father’s mistakes. If the pattern was too deep in my blood to break. But standing here with her hand over my heart, I know that fear was never about destiny. It was about choice. And I’ve made mine.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the ring box. Her eyes round.
“Jasmine Haywood.” I open the box, revealing the ring. “You’ve given me everything I didn’t know I needed. A reason to be a better man. A daughter. A home. Will you give me one more thing?”
The pale light catches the curve of her cheek, the shine of unshed tears in her eyes, and she’s fucking beautiful.
“Will you marry me? Not because of our daughter, though I’m grateful every day that she exists.
Not because my mother thinks we should, though she’s not wrong.
” I hold her gaze. “Marry me because I love you. Because I can’t imagine a single day of my life without you in it.
Because you’re my home, querida, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that I know it. ”
My voice breaks on the last word.
“Marry me and let me spend forever showing you that you were right to trust me. That your faith in me wasn’t misplaced. That I’m not going anywhere ever.”
She’s nodding, laughing, and crying at the same time. “Yes. Yes, of course, yes.”
I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. I knew it would. I’d been measuring her ring finger whenever she was asleep.
Then I’m on my feet again, kissing her cheeks, eyelids and the corner of her mouth. When I finally claim her sweet mouth, her body sways closer.
We walk back to the villa slowly, fingers laced together. The ring catches the moonlight with every step.
“I’m sorry I pulled away.” She leans into my side, her head resting against my biceps. “I was so scared...”
“You don’t have to apologize for protecting yourself,” I say. “But you never have to protect yourself from me.”
The ocean whispers against the shore, and somewhere in the distance, music plays. But here, in the space between the proposal and whatever comes next, there is only us.
Inside, the bed is turned down and the lights are low. The ocean is dark and endless through the glass floor.
“Come here,” I say.
She comes. I undress her, peeling away each layer until she stands bare before me. I trace every new curve of her body with my hands, then my mouth.
Her breasts are fuller now, heavy and sensitive under my palms. I cup them, brushing my thumbs across her nipples and watching them stiffen.
I lower my mouth to one, sucking softly, and she gasps.
I kiss my way down to her stomach, feeling our daughter shift beneath my lips.
“I love you,” I tell her belly. “Both of you. Everything about you.”
“Eu te amo,” she says while her fingers thread through my hair. “Eu te amo, Antonio.”
The words in my language, in her voice, send heat straight to my cock.
I lay her back on the bed, sliding pillows beneath her hips. We’ve learned how to navigate her belly, which angles let me sink deep, which positions make her moan loudest.
I kneel between her thighs, and she wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer.
I run my fingers through her slick folds, finding her swollen and wet. She whimpers when I circle her clit, jerking her hips against my hand.
“Antonio, please...”
“Look at me,” I say.
Her eyes meet mine. Dark and wanting and full of love.
I notch myself at her entrance and push in slowly, feeling her stretch around me, hot and tight and perfect.
Her lips part with a soft moan as I fill her. She tilts her hips, drawing me even deeper, and I have to pause to keep from losing myself too soon.
“I’m going to marry you,” I say, pulling back and sliding in again.
“I know.” She arches beneath me, her nails raking down my back.
“I’m going to wake up next to you every morning.” I thrust harder, watching her breasts sway with each movement.
“Yes.” Her voice breaks on the word, trembling with each roll of my hips.
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”
She pushes herself up, and I lean down to claim her mouth, swallowing her moans as I drive into her. We move together, skin slick with sweat, her body gripping me with every thrust. The wet sounds of our bodies meeting fill the room.
I slide a hand between us and press my thumb to her clit. “Come for me, querida.”
She shatters. Her back bows off the bed as her walls clench around me.
The sensation drags me over with her. I bury myself deep and come hard, moaning against her neck.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, her head on my chest, my hand on her belly.
“We should get married as soon as we get back,” she says.
“I agree.”
We talk until the sky lightens outside the windows. About wedding details and nursery colors and names we haven’t settled on yet. About the future that stretches before us, terrifying and wonderful and ours.
When Jasmine finally falls asleep, I stay awake watching her. My fiancée. The mother of my child. The woman with whom I’m going to spend the rest of my life.
The baby kicks.
“Soon, minha filha. Soon you’ll meet your mama and me. And we are going to love on you.”
I smile in the darkness. The warmth of Jasmine’s skin seeps into my chest, and her breath rises and falls in a rhythm I’ve come to know better than my own.
Outside, the sun begins to rise over the Maldives.
I close my eyes and let myself dream about our future.