The sight hits me in a way that’s almost painful, a quiet kind of ache that spreads through my chest. The kind of feeling you get when you realize something is too good to be true, and then you remember itistrue, because it’syours.
Because she’shere.
Because she choseme.
I watched her for a second too long, memorizing the curve of her shoulder, the way her hip leans into the window frame, the small content hum she makes like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.
She turns her head and catches me. “What?” she asks, suspicious. I smile, and it’s impossible to stop. “You’re real.” Sam squints, like she’s trying to decode me. “You’re being weird.”
“I'm married to you,” I say. She laughs, bright and unguarded, like she can’t help it. She takes a bite of the croissant, chewing slowly like she’s savoring the moment on purpose. “Okay, well, stop feeling married so loudly. You are scaring me.” I laugh under my breath, like I’ve been caught doing something embarrassing. Like loving her too openly is a crime.
I cross the room and slide my arms around her from behind, pressing my mouth to her shoulder. She’s warm from the sunlight, skin smooth beneath my lips, and I swear my whole body relaxes just from holding her. “I can’t help it.”
Sam leans back into me, relaxed, like she was always meant to fit there. “Yes, you are married to me.” I bite her shoulder lightly. She squeaks. “Theo!”
“It’s our honeymoon,” I murmured, lips brushing her skin. “I’m allowed to do whatever I want to you and with you.” She turns in my arms, eyes bright, cheeks flushed from laughter and sunlight and maybe me. “You did that last night, all night long.”
I lift a brow, trying for casualness, but I can feelthe grin pulling at my mouth anyway. “So what?” I asked. She just laughed at me.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about.” The words come out before I can second-guess them. And the second they leave my mouth, I feel her body go slightly still, like she’s bracing for impact. Her eyes narrow immediately, instinctively. “No, Theo, don’t start killing the mood.”
I wince, not because she’s wrong, but because I hate that her first reaction is defense. Like she’s expecting me to drop something heavy on her. “You might like it. I promise.” She tilts her head, still suspicious, but curiosity sneaks in. “Try me, but if I get mad, you are taking me shoppinganddrinking later.” She says it like I won’t do that, regardless. A laugh escapes me. I’m relieved now. “I’ll still take you shopping and drinking, but deal.”
She takes another sip of coffee, steadying herself. “Okay.”
“There’s an opportunity for me… well, for us, as Hayes International, to spend some time here in France. There are some clients who want us closer. The contract will be around six to nine months, but we’ll need representation here during that time. And, who is best for it, than the CEO and the International Business Strategist?” I watch her face while I say it, tracking every shift. I expect hesitation. I expect her to worry about logistics and to question whether it’s too fast, too much.
But her expression transforms so quickly it almostknocks the air out of me, like someone opened a window in her chest and let the light in. “You are saying that you want us to move to Paris?”
“Well, not exactly Paris, and not move, move, but live here for a while, and?—”
“Yes, Theo. Absolutely yes.” The words slam into me in the best way. There was no fear on her face. She didn’t hesitate, and she didn’t even seem worried. She just said, yes. My heart stutters, stunned by how easy she makes it. By how she doesn’t make me beg for permission to want things with her. “Are you—, really?”
She steps closer, eyes shining, and the look on her face makes my throat tighten like she’s about to say something stupidly emotional that will ruin me. “I want my life withyou. I like what I’m doing in the company, and I absolutely love France. This is the best case scenario possible.” Yes, she did.
“In that case, do you want to go see your new potential home?” She blinks. “Did you look for an apartment already?” I clear my throat, suddenly feeling twelve years old and caught hiding a gift behind my back. Which was exactly what was happening right now. “Well, not exactly.”
Her stare sharpens instantly. She points the croissant at me like it’s a weapon. “Leading with ‘not exactly’ is never good.” I kiss her forehead, because it’s the only thing I can do that feels steady. “Trust me on this one.”
She makes a noise that says she doesn’t trust me at all, but she trusts me with her life.
And the whole time, my pulse is too loud. Because I know what’s coming. And I know her. And I know she’s either going to melt or murder me.
Probably both.
The compound is about 45 minutes outside the city, away from the noise and tourists. The drive itself feels like slipping out of one world and into another. Paris was fading behind us, elegant buildings and crowded sidewalks replaced by open space and green stretching endlessly. Even the air changes here. It’s cleaner, and quiet enough that I can hear Sam’s soft little breaths beside me, the occasional rustle when she shifts in her seat.
She keeps glancing out the window, eyes wide, like she’s trying to imprint every detail. Her knee bounces once, then stills, then bounces again. When we turn down the long private road lined with trees, her head snaps toward me. “This looks expensive.”
“It’s France,” I say, like that explains anything.
When we get to the house entrance, I can see Sam’s eyes almost watering at the sight. The moment the gates open and the property reveals itself, she goescompletely silent, like her brain is buffering. Her lips part. “This is not an apartment.”
“No, it’s not.” Her shoulders lifted on a sharp inhale, and her voice cracked on the next words, like her emotions were piling up too fast. “And there’s a vineyard in here.”
“Yes, there is.” She turns slowly, staring at the rows of vines like they’re a hallucination. Her hand lifts, hovering in the air like she wants to touch the scene just to confirm it’s solid. “This place is huge, Theodore. Who owns this?”
My chest tightens. This is the moment. The one I’ve been holding back, the one that’s been burning on my tongue since this morning. “We do.”
