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His admission sends a ripple of shock through me. The idea that he would withhold such critical information, out of fear of losing me, is both touching and terrifying. “You can’t make decisions for me based on what you think is best. I deserve to know the truth, to make my own choices.”
He nods, a look of understanding dawning on his face. “The decision to stay or go is yours to make.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about the future.” I pause, gathering my thoughts. “I love this town, the simplicity of life here. Could you see yourself living here, really being part of this community?”
His response is slow, thoughtful. “Before I met you, I couldn’t have imagined a life different from the one I was leading. The city suited me. But now, I can see the possibility of a different kind of life. A life with you, here, if that’s what you want, it’s what I want.”
The sincerity in his voice warms me, but the remnants of doubt linger. “But what about the age gap, our different lifestyles? I’m just starting out, and you have your entire world already. Can we really bridge that gap? You won’t resent me? Think I’m only after your money?”
He reaches for my hand, his touch grounding. “You get half no matter what happens between us. You’re my wife. I love you.”
It’s the first time he’s said it out loud and I’m taken aback by his honesty.
“I love you too,” I whisper, the words feeling like a key turning in a lock, opening up a future filled with possibilities. “And I have some news of my own.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant?” he says, a smile warming his face. “I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?”
15
ADRIAN
We’re seated at a cozy table in “The Willow Nook,” her favorite restaurant nestled in the heart of Willow Creek. The ambiance is warm and the murmur of conversations around us adds to the sense of community.
It’s a place that feels like home, and tonight, it’s where we celebrate something truly special—our future child. I’ll always remember this as the place where we celebrated.
We share a dessert, a decadent chocolate lava cake. The topic of baby names floats between us like the delicate notes of the background jazz playing softly.
“What do you think about Lily if it’s a girl?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with excitement and a hint of mischief. “Don’t know why I like that name but I do.”
“What about Matteo for a boy?” I reply. “Two can play at that game.” I chuckle, dabbing at the corners of my mouth with a napkin.
She nods, her smile widening. “Maybe we’ll pick names later.” Her hand finds mine across the table, a tangible reminder of our connection, our shared joy in this moment. “You still okay with raising them here?”
“I can’t imagine a better place than Willow Creek,” I say. “It’s peaceful, welcoming, and I can see why you like it here, seeing it through your eyes.”
Her laughter, light and carefree, fills the space between us. “I knew you’d come around. This town has a way of enchanting people. Plus, the idea of our child growing up here, safe and loved, it’s all I could ever wish for. No crime, unlike the city. Hell, you’re the most dangerous person here.”
“I was the most dangerous person most places, but not anymore. That’s all behind me now.”
She nods. “With Luca gone, it feels like we can finally breathe, live without looking over our shoulders.”
“I know. No need for security details everytime we go somewhere.”
“What security detail?”
“They knew to be discreet. You wouldn’t have seen them.”
“You mean they were there on the honeymoon?”
I nod as she wipes her mouth with a napkin.
“You mean, even that time when we did it on the beach?”
“Averted their eyes for that, I promise.”
