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Ethan stared at the old, yellowed letter, his brows furrowing. “…Mia, I don’t think Victor died.”
“I don’t think Sarah was sent to a convent either,” I replied.
Our gazes met, and in unison, we said, “They eloped.”
Placing the letter down, Ethan went to get two chairs for us, and I took one, thanking him. We sat close enough that our knees touched. We plucked up letter after letter, trying to put them in chronological order from the dates they had lovingly placed on the right side.
We worked through the chest, reading out a love story that spanned over three years, and Cécile got us lunches, nothing sloppy to stain our fingers, and we went back to the letters.
Ethan pulled out the last letter.“My love, I have decided for us to leave Denver and from there to New York to start a life together. If by happenstance we have children, their name will be Vaga, as far removed from my family and yours. Our children will never know hate, or spite or reprisal, only love and true family…”
My head snapped up. “You…think… do you think we have relatives somewhere?”
“Possibly,” Ethan replied, then sat the letter down. “As fascinating as this, we can deal with this later, Mia. I need to talk to you about two days ago.”
I looked down. “You don’t need to. I—my omission is not your blame. All I could see back then was you having the key to my dream and my future fading away. I had a bad habit of seeing things in black and white too much, Ethan. It’s… it's not your fault.”
He lifted the gift bag and handed it to me. “Look inside.”
I did and saw a wrapped basket of chocolate, and I plucked it out. Eying him, I teased him, “Now, who is the one making amends with food?”
His lips slanted. “That’s not all. Look again.”
I peered into the bag and saw an envelope; plucking it out, I took the papers out and looked. “This deed of agreement is entered into as of the effective date identified below between Tender T’s corporation of Austin, Texas, hereby known as the purchaser, and Sullivan Wines LLC, hereby known as the supplier…”
I dropped my hands, “Ethan…what is this?”
“Your dream come true,” he replied. “Well, a copy of the real one anyway. What you told me about this deal being the one thing that would make you take control of the family’s business, I flew out to Austin to speak with Mister Portman himself about the contracts. I had feared you would never get yours, and I told him if that were the case, I would gladly switch my contract with him for him to make a contract with you. Turns out, I didn’t need to do that because—”
I’d heard enough.
Launching myself off my chair, I crashed into him and took us both to the ground. “I cannot believe you did that!”
His arms were around me. “I told you it would be okay, didn’t I?”
“Pardon me for catastrophizing,” I told him, getting up to my elbows and looking down on him. “I didn’t think you would do that for me!”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, “I told you I have no interest in carrying on this stupid rivalry. Your win is my win.”
I kissed him. The instant my lips met his, Ethan took control, sweeping his tongue through my mouth, meeting my own, me ceding control and taking it back with each twist and turn of our heads. A low groan rumbled through his chest, and I loved it, just as I liked the grip he had on my arms.
“If we don’t stop now,” he murmured, “we might get arrested for public indecency.”
Somehow, Ethan managed to get us up from the floor and held my body aloft. “I suppose we’re not the first ones in our families to get together.”
“I suppose not,” he said while letting me down and gazing at the table full of letters. “I don’t know how our folks are going to take this, though.”
“It’s either they do or they don’t,” I shrugged. “The truth is in the middle.”
“I wonder where they ended up,” Ethan asked while looking at the last letter. “What did he do for a living? What did she become? Did their kids have kids who had other kids?”
“We’ll find that out another day,” I replied while looking around for Cécile. “Now we have the truth; we can work on it. But for now…” I turned to him. “…can we go somewhere and share those chocolates?”
“I’ll be licking it off your belly,” he whispered.
Rolling my eyes, I began to fold the letters back into the chest. “Stop making me blush.”
“Why?” he asked. “You’re cute when you blush.”
