Epilogue
One year later
Mia’s in the kitchen at the lodge, baking. Soft music plays from the audio system, and she hums, swaying her hips.
I have a perfect view of her as I lean against the wood column in the living room.
I could never tire of watching her and can’t imagine a life without her. That’s why my life has two parts: before Mia, it was dark, cold, and meaningless; after she came into my life, it was filled with passion, love, and happiness—all the things I never thought I’d experience. She has shown me how life could be, and I will do everything it takes to keep us together, just like this.
If there’s something after life, I’d still want to spend it with her.
Once I started telling her I love her, I couldn’t stop. Those few seconds just after I say it, her eyes always light up, brightening my whole world. And then she says it back. Three words, eight letters strung together make the biggest difference.
I have never been more certain of anything in my life: wanting her in every human way.But I have a plan, and I plan to make her my fiancée today. And then next year, I will make her my wife. Thankfully, I don’t have to think about giving her my tainted name. We will both embrace the new family name: Arison.
“How long are you going to stand there and watch me?” she asks and turns to me, a playful smile teasing the corners of her sinful lips.
She senses me like no one else and knows me like no one ever will. She holds so much power over me it should terrify me, but I am only terrified of her not loving me one day, which she assures me won’t happen. My heart is in her palm, and my life is laid at her feet.
“Just admiring the view.”
She sashays over to me, all confident and sexy, and I can’t wait to feast on those succulent lips, ravish and consume her.
I am insatiable when it comes to her. So, as soon as she’s within reach, my arms fly to her waist, and I lift her up. She lets out a squeal and places sweet kisses all over my face.
“Your mouth on mine. Now.”
“So bossy.”
Yet she kisses me, and I place her on the kitchen island. Caressing along her collarbone, she asks, “What is it, baby?”
She interlaces our fingers and squeezes them. That’s her sign for “I am here and I am going nowhere.”
I feel my brows furrowing. I can’t place my emotions because I’ve never felt like this—so nervous.
Gulping the lump down my dry throat, I gaze into her eyes. We promised never to hold anything back from each other. With her, I can be vulnerable.
“I’m nervous,” I admit and chuckle, scratching at my neck.
She makes a cute grimace as if I took her by surprise.
“What’s making you nervous, baby?” she asks, playing with the ends of my hair. Everything in her is made to soothe me.
Here it goes.
“Close your eyes, please. You can open them only when I say so.”
“Okay.”
She does it without a second thought. Her trust in me is something I cherish and will never take for granted.
Carrying her upstairs, she nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck.
In our bedroom, I gently place her on the floor, surrounded by flickering candles in a heart shape, with violet rose petals scattered all around.
Plucking the ring from my jeans, I kneel and say, “Open your eyes, Silver.”
When she does, her eyes take everything in before they land on me, and they immediately glisten.
“Will you marry me?” I ask and immediately forget everything else I wanted to say because she looks so beautiful. “I never believed in love, but you showed me every day how mine for you grows even more. I want to be your everything, Mia. Your best friend and lover, your confidant and supporter. But above all, your husband, life partner, and the father of your children. So please, become my wife.”
“Yes. A million times, yes.”
She drops to her knees in front of me and springs into my arms.
“My heart is pounding like crazy.”
“Mine too,” I whisper, and I place her hand on my chest. Her face radiates while I can’t stop smiling. She said yes. This mix of pride and happiness overwhelms me in the best way.
When she leans back, she stretches her hand out to me, and I flick open the lid of the ring box.
“You had me with the box,” she says. It’s a special one, shaped like a small book with our initials engraved on it.
“Wow,” she adds when the purple diamond ring is revealed—a six-carat gem set on a platinum diamond band.
Sliding it on her finger, I lift her hand to my mouth, pressing my lips against it.
“Fiancée.”
“Fiancé.”
I love that title way better than boyfriend, and I know I’ll love it even more when she calls me husband.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming,” she says, still wearing an awed expression.
“That was the point.”
Pulling her up, I take my time undressing her and then myself, savoring and memorizing this special moment. Gathering her in my arms, I lower her into the tub that’s overflowing with bubbles and rose petals.
“You’re perfect, Blake. Thank you for fulfilling my dream of you, of love, and of home.”
“I’ll never stop, Mia.”
My need for her takes over. There’s no better way to celebrate our engagement than losing ourselves in each other.