Chapter 46
Noah
Three years later
“Hey, mon Papillon, do you have a moment for me?” Luca gently kisses my temple, and I lean into his touch, stunned that this beautiful, selfless man is still with me and still looks at me as if I’d hung the moon.
“Since when do you speak German with me?”
Luca grins, and his boyish, mischievous grin makes my heart race. “Secret preparations.”
Smiling, I shake my head. I’ve learned German well over the past few years. It wasn’t too hard, since everyone in this family decided to teach me this completely illogical language.
“Where are we going?” Luca leads me to a door that has always been closed until now. Today, it’s ajar.
“That’s Paps’s office, but we’re allowed in, I asked.”
Cautiously, I follow him into the spacious room with a massive desk in the middle and shelves reaching up to the ceiling. I still don’t understand why we’re here, I feel like an intruder.
“Come with me.” He tenderly kisses my hand, and my heart skips a beat. What have I done to deserve him? Why me? Why did he choose me? The plain boy with the thick glasses. If only I could look into his eyes for the rest of my life…
Determined, he pulls me further into the back of the room. “Oh, wow. Is that an old record player?” Luca nods. “How old is it?”
“I don’t know exactly, but it belonged to my grandparents, and they had it even before Paps was born.” Philipp is in his mid-fifties. Wow.
“Can we turn it on? I’d love to hear the sound of it.
My parents had one just like this. I wasn’t allowed to touch it, but when I was alone, I often snuck into the music room and listened secretly.
” A radiance spreads across Luca’s handsome face.
A sparkle in his eyes that used to be there before.
It’s coming back, a little more every day.
His fear is giving way to confidence, and I’m so glad to see his lightheartedness returning.
I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if he’d lost it.
“Really? You did something forbidden? Oh my God, that’s some deep stuff.” His laughter is contagious, and damn it, I love laughing with him.
With practiced ease, Luca pulls a record off the shelf and puts it on. The song starts slowly, piano, a voice. “Pay attention to the lyrics. It’s in German, but you’ll manage. Let’s dance.”
Confidently, he takes my hands and wraps them around his neck, then he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close.
With my head on his shoulder, we spin slowly to the beat of the music.
I’ve gotten better. It’s not quite enough for a disco fox yet, and probably never will be, but I rock Luca’s freestyle, and I’ve learned to celebrate the small victories instead of constantly mourning the big losses.
I understand every word. This song isn’t a coincidence; it’s a deliberate choice he picked for me.
Tears well up in my eyes. Even if they aren’t his words, I know Luca means every single one of them.
That’s how he sees me, that’s who I am to him.
A part of him. Always there, no matter how much space and time separate us.
“What’s the name of the song?” My voice breaks on the last word as the saxophone solo is too perfect not to touch me.
“‘So bist du’ by Peter Maffay.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“Tu es comme ca pour moi.” My tears flow freely, running down my cheeks straight onto his T-shirt.
I should be embarrassed, but I can’t stop them, and who am I kidding, Luca has seen me in much worse states, and he’s still here.
He’s crying too, I can tell by the trembling of his shoulders and his uneven breathing.
My hand finds its way to the back of his neck all on its own. My fingers stroke his closely cropped stubble, and a soft moan escapes him. He holds me tight once more as the song comes to an end, then breaks our embrace to look at me.
“Mon Papillon, I don’t think we need to talk about what’s behind us.
I don’t want to live in the past, I want to look into the future with you.
And even though I know your head is still telling you from time to time you’re not good enough, I don’t give a fuck about what’s going on in there.
” He gently places his hand on my forehead.
“I know what you still sometimes see when you look in the mirror: your shortcomings, your scars, your limitations. That’s not what I see when you stand in front of me.
I see the man who makes the butterflies in my stomach dance, I see my home.
I’m not afraid of the future, because I know our love will carry me through any storm.
I see the person who still turns me on as much as he did the very first time.
Our hearts know they belong together. They hold on tight, no matter what happens.
Even if you decide someday you can’t stay, your heart will always keep beating in mine.
You know everything about me, every little quirk, and sometimes I don’t even understand it myself, but you even love me for them. ”
I can’t stop the smile that’s winning the battle at the corners of my mouth as he continues.
“I love you when you laugh and are strong, but I love you just as much when you are in doubt and cry. We didn’t plan this, but we found each other anyway, we just happened, and my heart has never been as free as it is in every second with you. No matter in good times or bad.”
I know what’s happening. Over the past few years, Luca has brought up marriage every now and then, but I’ve never been ready.
I couldn’t bear the thought of him committing to me out of pity or false guilt.
Now he’s standing there, and for the first time, I, too, can take this step.
I don’t have to understand why, but I have to let him love me.
He feels the same way I do—he couldn’t sever this special bond even if he wanted to.
He wants to spend his life with me, not because he doesn’t know what lies ahead, but because the alternative is even more unimaginable.
“You are a part of me. I can let you go, but not without losing myself.”
Graceful as ever, he sinks to one knee. “I love you. I want to spend all the time we have with you. Will you marry me?”
Slowly, awkwardly, and anything but gracefully, I lower myself onto the thigh of his raised leg—the angle of my right knee won’t allow for more—and cup his face in my hands. “Je t’aime aussi, mon Chéri.”
“So, will you say yes?”
“I love your impatience.” If looks could kill, the wedding would be off the table. Smiling, I dive into the infinity of his deep blue eyes, my lips finding his. Just a little, just a whisper, just a taste of what’s to come.
“Oui, Chéri. Oui.”