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Chapter 32
Carrying my bag again, The Russian led the way upstairs, unlocking his house. He swung the door open for me and I entered and gasped. I now knew why he had wanted to go on the beach walk first. The room was filled with roses – filled completely.
He grinned with delight seeing my reaction.
“Happy anniversary,” he said.
“Oh Alex,” I sighed. I stood in my rose-print dress, looking at the bouquets all around the room.
“There’s one hundred ... one for every day we’ve been together,” he said, leaving me for a moment to put my bag in his room.
There were one hundred – ten bunches with ten in each and the scent and the sight was breathtaking. I didn’t move as I took it all in, and then I moved from one bunch to the next, touching them, studying them and inhaling.
“I don’t know which is my favorite ... the red roses are divine, but the yellow are magnificent, and the white ...” I swanned from one bouquet to the next. The room was like a glorious florist shop, and behind the bouquets, the glistening ocean water reflected the moonlight. I would never forget this moment.
The Russian leaned on the back of his sofa, his arms folded watching me. “You don’t have to pick a favorite,” he said, indulging me. “They’re all yours and the florist said they'd collect and deliver them to your place tomorrow if you’d like, or you can leave them here and visit them.”
“Oh Russian,” I said, again, and inhaled a pale lilac bunch. I moved over to him and wrapped my arms around his body. “Thank you, that is the most amazing gift I have ever received.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” he said.
“I need a photo,” I said. “Of me in my rose dress surrounded by your roses.” I grabbed my phone again and gave it to The Russian. I slipped my red shoes back on and made him take at least half a dozen shots – a wide shot with all the roses in, closer shots to show off the roses and a selfie of the two of us in front of the red roses.
“Thank you,” I sighed, “I’m blown away. And I bought you sports socks,” I said, and The Russian laughed.
“That’s a perfect gift,” he nodded. “Very thoughtful ... I like practical presents.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “But this is unforgettable.” And then something even more amazing happened. The Russian pulled away from me and dropped to one knee.
I gasped, taking in his pose, the roses around us, the moonlight, the moment. He pulled a small black box from behind the vase of roses where I stood and opened it. There was the most amazing diamond ring I have ever seen – huge, an emerald-cut center diamond, with a band adorned with round brilliant-cut diamonds.
“Brooker … Carla,” he said, “in one hundred days I have loved you in one hundred ways, will you marry me?”
“Russian,” I said; I knew my eyes were wide and my heart was pounding and I didn’t want ever to forget this glorious moment. “Yes, yes, absolutely yes,” I said, and then I cried.
The Russian rose and slipped the ring onto my finger. He picked me up and we kissed ... long, deep, passionate and I drank him in. Then he put me down.
“I got it from Tiffany’s, but if you don’t like it they said you could pick out something else,” he said.
“Are you kidding?” I asked, “it is the most stunning ring I have ever seen, thank you, I love it.” I extended my hand to look at it and the glistening diamonds on my engagement finger.
I looked up at him and saw his delight. I cupped his face.
“I had no idea you were up to this. I love you, I love how special this is, thank you Alex,” I said, using his real name to make the moment more intimate.
“Thank you for saying ‘yes’, Ms Carla Brooker-Renwick? I’m trying to be as politically correct as I can and my sisters thought that would be what you would go for.”
“Did they? Did you tell them? That’s cute ... I think—since we’re going to be together forever—I like Ms Carla Renwick better,” I said, and The Russian showed me his appreciation for that comment, picking me up and twirling me around.
When he put me down, I bounced up and down. “I’m so excited, Russian, we’re engaged.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” he teased me. “I’ll get us a glass of champagne, before you do more damage to that knee. We’ll go to the balcony,” he said.
I just wanted to tell everyone in the whole world and share my happy news with my best friends, but that would have to wait as The Russian returned with the champagne. We went to the balcony, stood on the edge looking over the beach, and he popped the cork – love that sound. The Russian filled our glasses and we clinked.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, forever,” I added. We sipped and just stared at each other, being in the moment. Knowing that we had found each other, that we both wanted the same thing, and that we’d be together forever now. I was engaged; I was loved by The Russian and he saw his future with me. I teared up again.
