Ophelia
He kneels slowly, his eyes locked on mine, the intensity in them enough to steal the air from my lungs. My pulse quickens, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
Damn it. I’m too young for cardiac arrest.
He takes my hand in both of his. His voice is rough when he finally speaks.
“I’ve been a blind fool. Everything that happened, every wound, every bit of pain, it’s on me.”
I start to say something, but he gives a small shake of his head, tightening his grip on my fingers.
“I’m deeply sorry for the way I treated you. For not trusting you. For breaking what we had. I’ll spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness, Ophelia. Every single day, I’ll prove that it’s worth it, that we are worth it.”
He pauses, drawing in a hard breath before he goes on.
“I don’t deserve you. Maybe I never have. But I’m still going to have you, because there’s no other way around it. You’re meant for me, and I’m meant for you.”
His eyes darken, that familiar fire returning.
“You come first. You always have, and you always will. I was just too blind before to see it properly. But no more. I’ll spend every day of my life showing you that you’re my only priority, that you’re all that matters.”
He takes a moment, his jaw tight, like he’s steadying himself before speaking again.
“I love you. Darkly, fiercely, without a trace of reason. You are mine, Ophelia Bellanti… and I am yours. Yours, in every way a man can belong to another soul.”
He slips a hand into his jacket and takes out a small velvet box. “This time,” his tone dips, “I’m asking you to be my wife, the right way.”
When he opens it, an emerald ring, deep green and gleaming, set in a slender band of platinum edged with diamonds rests there.
“Will you marry me?” The words come out slow. “Not bound by contracts or circumstance, but by choice. Yours and mine. Here, in the city where our story first began.”
His gaze holds mine, unwavering. “I’ll make mistakes again. I’ll get things wrong, that’s inevitable. But I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll spend every day proving that you’re mine, and that I’m yours. No one else. Nothing else.”
The tears come before I can stop them. My throat tightens, my chest aches.
As I take in his expression, I see the fear in his eyes. Real fear. As if whatever I say next might be the thing that ruins him.
I glance at the ring, at his hand, at the way he’s holding his breath. Then I nod.
Just once.
Relief flashes across his face so fast it almost hurts to watch. His shoulders drop, his jaw sets, and for a moment the control he always keeps just… slips.
He exhales, unsteady, then slides the ring onto my finger, right beside the first one.
It fits so perfectly, like they were designed to be worn together.
When he stands, I barely have time to catch my balance before his hands are on my face, his forehead resting against mine.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he breathes, each word breaking on a kiss—my cheeks, my temples, the corner of my mouth—until at last, his lips find mine.
The kiss steals the breath from me. It isn’t gentle, it’s fierce and consuming. I lose myself in him, and I don’t want to find my way back.
When we finally break apart, I can hardly speak. My voice trembles, but the truth sits clearly on my tongue. “I love you,” I whisper. “More than you could ever imagine.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, as though he’s finally heard the words he’s been longing for.
And in that moment, standing in the heart of Paris, his arms around me, his heartbeat pounding against mine, I finally feel at peace.
I’ve been angry, hurt, confused. I swore I wouldn’t forgive him easily. He needed to earn it, to prove that he would never doubt me again. And he did. Every single day, he did. And I know he’ll keep proving it.
Life has tested us in ways we never expected, but we made it through. We have our love, and we have our respect for one another, and with that, we can face anything.
We can finally be happy, we can finally leave the ghosts behind.
No guilt, no lies.
Just us.