29. Stefan #2
I picked at the tapas plate that one of the flight attendants had dropped off and tried to ignore the nakedness of my left hand, the pale white band around my ring finger reminding me that my wedding rings were still back in Chicago.
I’d dropped them off for cleaning at Stefan’s jeweler, along with his wedding band, a few days before our vacation.
But when I’d gone back, the jeweler told me she was concerned about a loose stone on my engagement ring.
She wanted to keep it longer to re-tip the prongs and check the tiny pavé diamonds on my wedding band as well.
Of course I had agreed. The last thing I wanted was to lose my diamonds on vacation.
But now that I didn’t have my rings anymore, I realized how accustomed to them I’d become.
I felt incomplete without them. Even the few days of leaving them for a clean and polish had been uncomfortable, and I couldn’t stop playing with the spot on my finger where they should be.
At least I had the man who the rings represented right beside me, I told myself. That was what really mattered.
A few hours later, our plane began its final descent into Owen Roberts Airport on Grand Cayman.
I looked out the window as we sailed through the clouds, the pristine white beaches and sparkling turquoise water coming into view.
It was the opposite of the cold, frigid city we had just left behind.
Even though I loved Chicago, I was eager to get a break from winter.
A private car was waiting for us at the airport and it wasn’t long before we pulled up in front of our gorgeous resort hotel. I’d never been to the Caribbean before, but even my wildest dreams couldn’t have imagined something as perfect as what I saw in front of me.
It looked like the screensaver on my laptop had come to life—nothing but lush green palms, lacy iron balconies, tall columns, and that unbelievably blue sky as a backdrop.
The air was warm and fragrant, and I paused for a moment to take it all in, breathing deeply.
Inside, the hotel lobby glimmering and spotless, with marble floors and huge open atriums.
“I can’t wait to see our bungalow,” I told Stefan, looping my arm through his as we followed the porter into our breathtaking suite of rooms.
“Do you want to check out the beach first?” Stefan asked. “The sun’s setting in about an hour—it’s going to be incredible. We can watch it from the sand.”
He tipped the porter, who offloaded our luggage and then showed himself out.
“That sounds good,” I told him, looking around at our lodgings.
I saw a huge king-size bed made up with crisp white linens and piled high with pillows.
It faced floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors that opened up onto our own private patio.
The fragrance from a fresh flower arrangement scented the air, and the bathroom was loaded up with fancy spa products and fluffy Turkish robes.
The best part was, the whole place was set apart from the rest of the hotel and even had a path leading down to the beach that was just for us.
I stripped off my sweater and boots and reclined on the bed. My silk camisole was slipping off my shoulder as I crossed my legs in my tight jeans, waiting for Stefan to pounce.
“Now that I’m lying here, I kind of feel like ordering room service and just staying in our room,” I said, giving him a suggestive wink.
But he was staring out the window at the ocean.
“I really don’t want to miss that sunset,” he said, a wistful tone to his voice that I didn’t hear often.
“There will be plenty more,” I pointed out, hoping to sway him.
He turned around and smiled. “I know. But I want to start this vacation off right. This is the first day of the rest of our lives, and…I guess I’m feeling sentimental. If you really don’t want to, though…”
My heart melted. This man.
“You win,” I said, walking over to him to pull him into a tight hug. “Let’s go.”
I pulled a pair of sandals out of my bag and quickly changed into a light sundress.
It was hot enough that the thought of wearing jeans for any longer was a minor torture.
When I emerged from the bathroom, Stefan was down to his tight black T-shirt and he’d rolled up the cuffs of his jeans.
I didn’t bother hiding my stare. I couldn’t wait to see him in a pair of swim trunks, emerging from the ocean, his body glistening with drops of water.
“You’re sure you don’t want to stay here?” I tried one last time, wanting desperately to start our vacation horizontal and in bed.
“Don’t you worry, kitty cat. We’ll be back in bed soon enough,” he said with a wink, taking my hand and leading me out of the bungalow.
We walked down the private path to the beach and I took a moment to soak it all in.
My disappointment over Stefan not jumping my bones the moment we were alone faded quickly.
We were in one of the most beautiful places I’d ever been and I had the man I loved at my side.
We had all the time in the world to be alone and naked together.
When we reached the beach, however, my jaw dropped—as it became immediately clear why Stefan had been in such a rush to get here.
Standing on the sand was a group of our closest friends and family, arranged in what looked like a ceremony tableau. Anja and Max. Emzee and Luka. Michelle. Grace. They were all here, their faces lighting up when they saw us.
“Surprise!” they shouted at once.
My hand flew to my heart.
“What is this?” I asked Stefan.
But when I turned to face him, I found that he had sunk down to one knee. And he was holding out a ring. My engagement ring.
“You didn’t choose this for yourself the first time, and I didn’t choose it for the right reasons,” he began. “But I’ve learned one thing, Tori. And it’s that I love you. I want us to spend our lives together, and you’ll make me the happiest man in the world if you want the same.”
My eyes were filling up with tears.
“Tori,” he said, his voice gone husky, “will you marry me again?”
“Yes,” I choked out. “I will.”
“Then let’s do this and mean it.”
He stood and swept me into his arms, kissing me fiercely.
I held out my hand for my ring, but before he slipped it back onto my finger where it belonged, he showed me the inscription he’d had engraved on the inside of the band. It read, “the deal of a lifetime.”