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I take a napkin from a nightstand and wrap the condom in it. Then I cover us with a sheet and place my hand around Michelle's waist. She turns to the side and moves closer to put her head on my shoulder.
Epilogue
Christopher
Eighteen Months Later
"I can't believe you did this." Michelle rebels when she looks at the gift I just gave her.
"To be honest, it's not the kind of reaction I expected," I say with a smile and lean in to give her a kiss.
This woman...She's incredible. I bought us a two-week trip to a five-star hotel in the Maldives, and she started arguing with me instead of simply being happy.
"Our wedding is in two months, and I haven't even chosen a dress yet," she continues mumbling when she pulls away from my kiss.
"You were so tired with our last project; you need to rest," I explain. I can't believe I have to justify that we need a vacation.
Since we've been working together, we have had a proper vacation only once for the last two years. And it's not because I'm a workaholic, but because Michelle is. She insisted on taking a new project from our hotel chain and working really hard to turn an old abandoned building in Aspen into a magnificent inn with eighteen rooms.
Yes, every weekend we spend together, usually outside New York, and not working. But we had only one ten-day vacation in France on the anniversary of our first date.
We flew to Paris and had a dinner at the top of the Eiffel Tower. I booked the table right after I bought the ring. Everything was perfect but too pretentious, so I decided not to propose.
And then, we went to Provence, where we lived in a small family hotel with a private vineyard. On the last day of our trip, we walked through the grape vines during the sunset, and when she got distracted with a magnificent view for a second, I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me.
She agreed right away, to my surprise. I thought she'd say she would think about it simply to torture me. She still likes to threaten me with strangulation from time to time, and sometimes she even tries to do it.
We were going to start our wedding planning right after, but the Aspen hotel wasn't ready yet, and that's why Michelle was very busy and couldn't begin preparations. Our wedding is going to take place in Tuscany. She found an old manor with a lovely terrace overlooking Italian cypress hills.
"We will rest after the wedding. That's why they call it a honeymoon," she insists, although a bit less fiercely after the kiss.
"It's only two weeks!" I smile and lean in for another kiss, but she extends a hand to stop me.
"But Italian owners of the manor asked us to come to meet them before they agreed to let us use their house for the wedding."
"They reserved that place for us, and also..." I stop, thinking whether I should tell her this or not. The idea seemed fantastic when it first came to me, but now I have second thoughts.
"Also, what?" she insists, unable to wait any longer.
"I kind of asked Conor and Flora to go there."
"What?!" She jumps on her seat, and I laugh at how cute she looks when she's furious. I know I shouldn't smile when she's angry, but I simply can't help myself.
"They already agreed, so it's not a big deal," I say, seriously this time, since my laugh only irritated my fiancée even more.
"Of course, they did!" She snorts. "Flora is my wedding planner, while Conor is your employee! He couldn't say no."
"Oh, he could, and he did, many times." I take Michelle gently by the shoulders to calm her down a little because it looks like she's going to have a panic attack soon.
That's precisely the reason we need a vacation before starting to work on another project—a wedding in this case.
"Babe, Conor is my brother, and he's the best negotiator of all. You know that."
"They hate each other!" she exclaims, although a little quieter this time.
"They do not hate each other. I would say Conor even likes Flora. I mean, she was the only woman who ever rejected him when he hit on her."
She smiles. Finally, I feel relieved. I know that asking my brother and Michelle's best friend to help with an organization is a little bit risky, but I want to spend at least two weeks alone with my fiancée before she becomes my wife. That will be our last vacation as singles.
"We didn't have a vacation this year. We deserve it," I say, pulling Michelle closer to me for a hug. She succumbs, burying her face in my chest.
"I’ve always dreamed of seeing that white sand and light blue water," she murmurs, and her body begins to relax in my arms.
"I know, baby." I give a kiss to her forehead, brushing my hands over her back. "I love you."
"I love you, too." She raises her face up to look at me. "And thank you so much."
I smile and lean in for another kiss. I'll never get tired of two things in this life: arguing with her and kissing her.
