Applause erupted like a tsunami, nearly lifting the roof off the hall. I stood with everyone else, my eyes locked on her. Natalie gathered her skirt and walked toward the center stage in her red-soled heels, step by step. Spotlights followed her, wrapping her in a sacred halo. She was radiant.
She accepted the heavy golden gramophone trophy from the presenter and turned to face the audience.
"This feels... so surreal." Her voice through the microphone was raw with emotion. She adjusted her grip on the trophy, scanning the crowd below.
"First, I have to thank music. The thing that let me—at fourteen, with a beat-up guitar and terrible lyrics scribbled on the back of homework—escape a lousy reality. It's not just my career. It's my lifeboat. My way of making sense of this crazy world."
Natalie's speech was concise. She thanked the fans who'd grown with her, thanked Emma and the team. Then she paused,her gaze seeming to pierce through the dazzling lights and land on me. "...Finally, I want to thank the man I love."
Her lips curved up, though her eyes glistened with tears. "Thank you for protecting me and our baby in your way, even when that way was really... exasperating sometimes." Kind laughter rippled through the crowd. Her gaze was tender and steady. "Thank you for being willing to learn, to change, to give me space, and also give me a home. This award belongs to you, too. And to our little angel who just came into this world and gave us infinite courage—Leonardo."
Applause surged again like a tide. Many eyes darted between Natalie and me. My heart pounded hard and fast, a scorching warmth pumping from my heart through my limbs, making my nose sting. This was it.
I took a deep breath. In the perfect gap as the applause faded and the host prepared to speak, I rose from my seat. A spotlight instinctively split from Natalie, locking onto me. The entire hall went silent. Everyone stared in surprise, wondering what I was doing.
I straightened my jacket and walked up the stage steps. My gaze stayed fixed on Natalie. She stood center stage, holding the golden trophy, watching me approach off-script, her face full of confusion.
I stopped in front of her and reached into my jacket, pulling out a small, deep-blue velvet ring box. Gasps and sharp intakes of breath came from below.
"Oh my God..."
Someone in the audience let out a stifled cry, followed by more gasps.
I dropped to one knee, looking up at Natalie, and opened the box. The pear-shaped diamond blazed under the stage lights with fire that nearly burned the eyes.
The hall fell dead silent. Even breathing seemed to vanish. Only my heartbeat thundered in my ears.
"Natalie Green," I spoke, my voice carrying through the winner's microphone in her hand—a bit hoarse but clear enough. I tried to keep my tone steady, though I could feel my fingertips trembling slightly. "Actually, I'm the one who should be grateful. Thank you for not giving up on this bastard. Thank you for giving me a chance to learn how to love you right."
I paused, tracing her lips parted in shock and her eyes rapidly filling with tears. I pushed the ring box forward. "So, Natalie, will you marry me again? In sickness and health, for better or worse, till death do us part. Will you?"
Time froze. I could hear my blood flowing, hear countless gazes focusing from below. Natalie stood motionless, just looking at me, tears finally breaking free and sliding down her cheeks, sparkling under the spotlights. A few seconds of silence felt like a century. Just as my heart was about to leap out of my throat, Natalie suddenly smiled through her tears and nodded hard, choking out, "Yes! Richard, you bastard who's always scaring me... yes!"
The weight crushing my chest crashed to the ground. I exhaled in relief, barely realizing I was grinning too. With my good hand, I took out the ring and carefully, reverently, slipped it onto her left ring finger.
Perfect fit.
Then I stood, and before she could react, I cupped the back of her head and kissed her deeply—tomorrow's headlines were guaranteed.
Natalie's and my story was beginning again on this brilliant night, in the most spectacular way possible.
Epilogue
Natalie
"No, this one makes me look like a frosted wedding cake."
"The back slit on this dress—what, am I supposed to do a striptease in front of the priest?"
"Jesus, this veil weighs enough to stop a bullet."
"Pearls? Seriously? I look like a supporting character from a 1950s movie."
After trying on what had to be the seventeenth—or maybe eighteenth, I'd lost count—gown from various top-tier designers, I collapsed barefoot onto a sofa soft enough to swallow me whole. I announced my defeat to the row of consultants and assistant designers whose expressions were growing increasingly stiff. "Forget it. I give up. Maybe we should just throw on some jeans and get this done at city hall. The baby's already here, I've got my awards. Who cares?"
Emma rolled her eyes dramatically while directing the staff to pack away those wedding gowns worth the price of a sports car. "Natalie, you're about to become Mrs. Winston—again—in front of the whole world. And your groom is Richard Winston. You want to wear jeans? Unless you're hoping to see The WallStreet Journal and People Magazine dedicate their front pages to mourning the death of fashion."
"Let them mourn." I rubbed my ribs, still aching from the tight corset. Post-pregnancy recovery had gone well, but certain curves were definitely different now, and these dresses... well, I just didn't like how I looked in them.
