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“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he said, sipping his coffee to moisten his suddenly dry throat.
“Can coffee be a part of it? I’m so tired.”
Maybe this wasn’t the best time. Maybe she was too tired to think straight? But his nerves were stretched to breaking point and he knew he had to do this. He’d been waiting months, deciding that focusing on the gallery was most important for Phoebe, that he didn’t want to get in her way or be a distraction.
He turned and began making her coffee on autopilot. It was a small morning ritual they had, one he hoped to take part of every day for the rest of his life.
He slid the cup across the bench, then stood, still and silent, while she took her first sip.
“Okay, shoot.”
He arched a brow. It was a command, and he was more than willing to obey.
“I love you,” he said, simply, so her brow furrowed.
“This is not new information, but I’ll never get sick of hearing it.”
He laughed softly, his nerves relaxing a little.
“More than I ever knew it was possible to love someone. Being with you has blown the walls right off whatever I thought relationships were about. I’ve known for a long time that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and what I’m asking is if you would like to spend yours with me?”
She blinked, the coffee forgotten. “You know I do.”
Was he doing this wrong? Did she understand what he was asking?
He reached above the cabinets—far too high for Phoebe to reach, let alone see—and pulled down a black velvet box. He opened it carefully, then bent down on one knee, holding the ring for her to see. She lifted her hands to her mouth and clasped them there, eyes misty.
“What I mean to ask is if you’ll marry me, Phoebe Whittaker? You are my soulmate, in every way.”
“Yes, I really think I am,” she whispered. “And you are mine.”
“Then shall we make it official?”
“Oh, you betcha.” She grinned, looking down at her fingers as he slid the diamond solitaire onto one, then stood, folding her into an embrace.
Love wrapped around them, stronger for their trials, their faith and trust built on the journey they’d had to go through to get to this point. Theirs was indeed a love that would last for all time.
Early the following summer, they held an intimate sunset ceremony on the deck of the yacht, just their closest friends and family in attendance, and with a minimum of fuss and formality. Both had wanted their day to mark their love, and they’d achieved that. It was palpable in the air.
But after the guests had disembarked at Porto Mezi, and it was just Anastasios and Phoebe on board, Phoebe caught her groom in a reflective moment.
“Are you thinking about him?” She asked gently, nuzzling close to his side.
“Indirectly.” He angled his face to Phoebe’s, a thoughtful expression on his features. “Actually, I was thinking about Ophelia, and how strange it is that she wasn’t here.”
He shrugged. “Or perhaps it would have been strange. Certainly for mum. But she’s our sister, and at some point, we’re going to have to acknowledge that. You heard the grief in her voice, the rejection she’s lived with. Our father was wrong to exile her; it wasn’t fair to her, or us. But I’m perpetuating that by keeping her a secret.”
“Do you think your mum’s ready to learn about her?”
“No. But she may never be. So what option do we have?”
It was a question that was too thorny to answer in that one night, but one they knew they’d have to tackle. And they would, together, side by side, facing their life’s challenges as a true partnership, mutual strength derived from each other’s support, and love.
THE END
