47. Chapter Forty-Seven
Leslie
The night was a phenomenal success. The plates of food were exquisite and the space a wonder. Even more so now that it stood empty. I sat, shoes off, on a magical veranda under an indoor blanket of stars. The effect mesmerized. Tall lines, impossibly high ceilings, with solid stonework and golden lighting. Video panel windows showed palm trees, lit from below, fronds blowing in the breeze. Dining here was an experience, and the world would soon dig into the talents of the man I loved.
Puerto Rican love songs played faintly while fresh memories swirled around me.
Clinking glasses.
Delighted diners.
Well-wishes from our friends and family, overjoyed at our recent success.
It was too much and just right, and I savored every moment.
The kitchen doors swung open and Risto strolled across the space.
God, he’s sexy.
And mine.
I smiled so often tonight my cheeks hurt but flashed him another wide one, earning a disbelieving grin in return.
“Yeah, I know. All this?” He gestured to the room.
“Maybe I’m happy about something else?”
He kneeled at my side. “What might that be?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came.
There were too many blessings to count.
I was grateful for my life with Risto. That’d we’d found each other at last and forever.
I was grateful to be well, something that never would have happened without Dot first opening my eyes.
I was grateful to have a career where I could make a difference in the world.
And I was grateful to be me. I battled with myself for so long that having peace left me optimistic about the future.
But that was too much to squeeze into this moment.
Sometimes, silence spoke louder.
I leaned forward to accept Risto’s tender kiss.
“Time to go home,” I said. “But let’s grab a cab. I’m done walking the streets at night.”
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