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He clears his throat then. “I do want to say, though, that I’m so sorry for how things happened between us. For what I said on the ferry and what I did in the car, without thinking. If I’d known, I’d have been much gentler and more considerate.”
“No,” I say quickly, taking his hand as I fight against my rising emotion, “please don’t say that. Don’t regret what you did. You were so open and matter of fact—it was exactly what I needed. You’ve taught me that sex isn’t something to be ashamed about. That it’s okay to enjoy your body, both alone and with someone else. I can’t explain what a revelation that’s been to me.”
He blows out a breath. “I thought maybe I’d done more harm than good.”
“No. No, no, no. You released me from my cage, Damon. Don’t ever think you’ve been anything but liberating for me.”
I feel a lightness in my heart that I haven’t felt before. I didn’t want him to know, but now that he does, and after his sweet words telling me I have a beautiful soul, I finally feel the old wound closing over, to be replaced by something that’s new, clean, and bright.
“Okay,” he says, in a determined tone. “All right.”
He gets to his feet. He slides his right hand into the pocket of his jeans and extracts it. A black velvet box sits on his palm. He passes his left hand over it, and does an acceptable sleight of hand, distracting my gaze. I can’t help but give a short laugh when he opens his left hand to reveal the box has vanished. When I look back at where he’d actually kept the box in his right hand, it sits open, revealing an enormous diamond solitaire.
“I’ve been practicing that all week,” he says. He gets down on one knee. “Michelle Winters, will you marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?” His gingerbread-brown eyes are wide, kind, and hopeful. “If you want to live and work in Sydney, I’ll come with you. Or if you want to stay here and do magic on the streets or your wonderful children’s parties, I’ll do everything I can to support you. I want to marry you and have children with you. I want you by my side more than anything in the world.”
I stare at him for a good ten seconds.
Then my face crumples, and I burst into tears.
“Oh crap,” he says, and sighs. “I didn’t mean to have this effect. Come here.” He sits next to me again, pulls me into his arms, and leans back, taking me with him.
I curl up beside him and sob my heart out into his sweater. It takes a good ten minutes for me to calm down, and by that stage the wool is sodden, and partly covered with mascara. He doesn’t complain, though; he just waits for me to stop, then gets up so he can retrieve some tissues and comes back to press them into my hand.
“I’m going to get us a G&T,” he says. “I think we both need one. If you still want to go home later, I’ll call you an Uber.”
I nod, and he kisses the top of my head and goes off to the kitchen.
I get up, peer into the mirror hanging over the fireplace, and hurriedly try to clean up my face. My heart is racing, but I can’t get my brain to focus enough to concentrate on the things he’s just said to me.
With most of the smudged mascara removed, I turn and glance at the coffee table. He’s left the velvet box there, open. The ring glitters in the late-afternoon sunshine. Oh my God. The diamond is enormous. It must be five or six carats at least. It would have cost him an absolute fortune.
Is this real? Does he really want to marry me?
He comes back in, without his sweater and carrying two glasses, and I let him lead me back to the sofa, where we sit, holding hands as we have a large swallow of the G&T.
“Oh, that’s good,” I say thankfully, and he chuckles.
He puts down his glass then, and cups my face. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry I made you cry.”
I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. It wasn’t you. It was me. I just can’t believe it, that’s all.”
“Can’t believe what? That I’d want to spend the rest of my life with the girl who dispelled my curse?”
“Whatever you think, Damon, you’re not a beast. You weren’t cursed. You just hadn’t met the right girl.”
“Maybe. But you’ve been so patient with me. So understanding. You haven’t pushed me, either. You’ve just let me be myself. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. It’s the least I can do to reciprocate.”
My eyes sting again, and I sniff to stop them falling. “Did you mean what you said about supporting me if I didn’t go into law?”
“Of course. I told Alex that you didn’t want to be a lawyer. He asked me if I’d let you throw away your years of training, and I said it wasn’t about not letting you do anything. Whatever you want to do—if you decide you want to practice law because you’ve worked so hard at it, or if you want to follow your passion instead, I’ll support you financially and emotionally. I just want you to be happy.”
“I didn’t think I had a choice,” I say honestly. “I thought everyone would think I was an idiot if I didn’t go into law.”
“Education is never wasted.” He hesitates. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”
