Chapter 20 A Life Without Hiding #2
"Ready for that walk?" he asks.
"Almost. Let me just finish up."
I count the register, set aside tomorrow's starter money, and hang up my apron. The bump is more visible without it, the curve of my belly pressing against my dress. I catch Leon looking at it, a soft expression on his face.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing. Just thinking about how much has changed."
"Good changes?"
"The best changes."
"Go," my mother says, catching me looking at the sink. "There's one tray left. I'll lock up. Your father's meeting me here."
I check that the oven is off, put the last cooled cake under its cover, and kiss her cheek. Then we step out into the evening air. The town square is quiet, the day's business winding down, a few people still walking along the cobblestones or sitting on benches near the fountain.
Leon takes my hand as we walk, and I let him. It's such a small thing, holding hands in public, but I remember a time when even that felt dangerous. When being seen together meant risking everything.
"Do you remember the first time we walked through here together?" I ask. "After we were married?"
"You kept looking at the people we passed."
"Not terrified. Just... aware. Of all the eyes."
"And now?"
"Now I don't care who sees." I squeeze his hand. "That's the difference. I used to think I needed permission to exist in this space. Your mother's permission, society's permission, anyone's permission. Now I know I don't need anyone's permission except my own."
"You shouldn't have had to wonder whether I'd let go of your hand," he says.
"No. I shouldn't."
He lifts our joined hands and kisses my knuckles. I let him, then pull him out of the path of a woman carrying a basket almost as wide as the pavement.
"You can look adoringly at me after we cross."
"I can do both."
"You nearly walked into a cabbage."
We walk past the fountain, past the cafe, past the old church with its worn stone steps. The evening light is turning everything golden, the kind of light that makes even ordinary things look beautiful.
"I've been thinking," Leon says as we turn up the path that leads toward the hills above town.
"About what?"
"About us. About what we've built together."
"And?"
He doesn't answer right away. We keep walking, the path rising gently beneath our feet, the town falling away behind us. The almond groves spread out below us, rows of trees that have been here for generations, part of the landscape I've known my whole life.
At the top of the rise, there's a flat spot where you can see for miles. The estate is visible in the distance, golden in the evening light. The town nestles in the valley below. And beyond that, the hills roll on toward the horizon.
Leon stops walking and turns to face me.
"When we got married," he says, "I stood beside you knowing my mother opposed it. I thought marrying you was enough. But afterward, I let her treat it like something shameful. I let her make you feel like our marriage was a mistake I needed to be protected from."
"Leon, we don't need to talk about this."
"I want to." He takes both my hands in his. "Because I want to ask you something, and I want you to understand why I'm asking."
My heart is beating faster now. "What do you want to ask?"
"I want to renew our vows." He says it simply, without dramatics or grand gestures.
"Not because our marriage isn't real. It's the realest thing in my life.
But because I want to stand up in front of everyone, everyone we love, and choose you again.
Publicly. Openly. Without shame or secrecy or any of the things that poisoned us before. "
I stare at him. "You want to get married again?"
"I want to renew what we already have. Somewhere beautiful, somewhere that matters to us.
I was thinking the hillside above the almond groves, where you can see the whole valley.
Your parents could be there. Gia. Anyone from town who wants to come.
" He squeezes my hands. "Not because I need their approval.
Because I want them to see what I already know.
That you're the best thing that ever happened to me, and I would choose you again, every day, for the rest of my life. "
"We're already married."
"I know."
"We don't need another ceremony to prove anything."
"I know that too." He smiles slightly. "But I'd like one anyway. If you would."
I think about the wedding we had two years ago. His hand closing around mine. How sure I was that we would be all right because we loved each other and had finally said so openly.
The promises mattered to me then. They still do. What hurt was watching him leave them behind whenever keeping them became uncomfortable.
I glance down at his hands. There's a little flour caught beside one thumbnail.
He has spent the afternoon answering to my instructions, carrying things, washing up, telling a customer to ask me about a special order because it is my decision.
Tomorrow he will have estate work. Tomorrow evening he has promised to be home for dinner.
Those are the things I will keep asking of him after any ceremony. I think he understands that now.
"The hillside above the almond groves," I say slowly.
"If you like it. We could choose somewhere else. The square, the shop, anywhere you want."
"No, I like that." I can picture it: the trees spreading out below us, the valley golden in the afternoon light, the people we love gathered on the hillside. "I like that a lot."
"Is that a yes?"
I look at him, at this man I've loved since I was barely more than a girl, this man who failed me and hurt me and spent months learning how to be better. He's not perfect. He never will be. But he's here, asking me to choose him again, in front of everyone.
"Yes," I say. "Yes, I'll renew our vows with you."
His face breaks into a smile so bright it almost hurts to look at. He pulls me close and kisses me, right there on the hilltop with the whole valley spread out below us, and I feel something settle in my chest that's been restless for a long time.
When we pull apart, I'm laughing.
"What?" he asks.
"Nothing. Just... we're really doing this."
"We're really doing this."
"In front of everyone."
"In front of everyone." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "No more secrets. No more hiding. Just us, choosing each other, where everyone can see."
I lean into him, feeling the solid warmth of his chest against my cheek. The evening light is fading now, the sky turning pink and orange above the hills. Somewhere in the valley below, the lights of the town are starting to flicker on.
"I love you," I say.
"I love you too."
We stay until the first lights come on around the square. Then I tug his hand.
"Come on. I'm hungry."
"You own a bakery."
"And somehow people keep coming in and buying the food. Terrible arrangement."
He laughs, and we start down the path. At the steeper part he offers his arm without pulling me toward him. I take it, choosing my footing among the loose stones.
Below us, someone calls his name. Signor Benedetti is standing at the turn with his wife, who raises a hand when she sees me.
"A good evening for a walk," she calls.
"It is," I answer.
I look at Leon. He is already looking at me, smiling, and for a moment I nearly tell them our news.
There will be time for that tomorrow. Tonight I keep hold of his arm and walk down to meet them.