I nod. The colours dance over the water and the cityscape below in glorious hews of vibrancy. “I can’t believe you brought me here,” I say as he wraps his arm around my waist.
“I heard a customer telling you about it once at the deli, and I remember the way your eyes lit up.”
I lean back to stare up at him, my lips parting in surprise. “That was ages ago.” I point between the two of us with my glass. “It was before you and me,” I say.
“Maybe I paid more attention to you than I led you to believe,” he replies in a soft baritone.My thoughts are scattered from his admission as warmth radiates through my body. “Don’t worry, my intentions are all good, I promise,” he says, leaning in for a kiss.
“Good to know,” I reply before his lips meet mine. It’s a soft kiss, tender and sweet. When I draw back, his eyes roam over my face when he should be focused on the view. I’m not complaining. It’s nice to have someone look at me the way he does. I turn my face towards the River Thames.
“It’s stunning,” I say, gazing at the sight before us.
“Yes, you are.” My cheeks heat, and I struggle to keep a small giggle from erupting at his compliment.
“Let’s take some photos.” He takes my glass from me so I can capture some on my phone and he joins me for some selfies, too.
We sip our champagne as we walk the length of the gallery hand-in-hand, the view growing even more spectacular as the sun disappears over the horizon.
“Ready to eat?” he asks.
I nod, reluctant to leave. Darkness has fallen across the River Thames and it takes on a new persona—the twists and the turns of the river merging with the night sky. Tower Bridge and nearby buildings are lit up in all their splendid glory. “Where are we eating?”
He takes our empty glasses and leaves them on the bar, giving his thanks to one of the bartenders. He takes my hand in his, kissing my knuckles. “It’s not far,” he says, smirking.
I poke him in the ribs. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
He laughs. “Yes.”
We take the elevators down, but when we stop at level 35, he nudges me out. I stare at him, confused for a moment until we walk towards a reception area leading to a restaurant. He gives them his name, and then they lead us to a table overlooking The River Thames and The Tower of London, the magnificent stone structure surrounded by floodlights, making it impossible to ignore.
“Told you it wasn’t that far,” he says, reaching for my hand.
Heat radiates through my chest. “This is perfect,” I say, unable to believe this is happening.
He shrugs, holding my stare. “I wanted to show you how special you are to me.”
“It’s lovely, but you didn’t have to do all this,” I say, waving my hand towards the lights below, the sparkling city life reflected in the river.
“Yes, I did.”
I feel weightless under his gaze. I can’t remember a time before having Molly, and I definitely don’t miss my nights of clubbing and drinking. But this…I’ve never had this.
I pick up the menu, my stomach dips; these prices are ridiculous.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, a worry line etched on his forehead.
“How different my life is since having Molly.” I lay the menu flat. “I don’t miss it, the nights out partying, or days spent shopping for frivolous things,” I reply honestly.
“I think you fell into those things, but they weren’t what you care about.”
How does he see me so vividly when I hardly see myself at all? “Maybe. It was easy to get caught up in all the hype, the grandeur of it all.”
A waiter interrupts, asking if we’re ready to order. I stare back at the menu.
“Can we have a little longer?”
The waiter nods. “Would you like drinks in the meantime?” he asks, pouring us a glass of water each.
“Can I have a beer? Whatever you have on tap.”
