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I lean forward until our foreheads touch, still struggling to find words worthy of this profound moment. "I love you," I breathe against his lips. Antonio smiles, an expression of such unguarded happiness it transforms him. In this moment, he appears years younger, the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders.
"I adore you, Clara Ricci." I thrill at hearing my new name spoken in his rich voice. He seals our pact with a deep kiss brimming with promise.
We eventually rise from the hardwood floors, both wiping at our eyes and laughing softly, still caught up in the euphoria of this life-altering moment. Antonio keeps me tucked possessively against his side as we descend the open staircase together.
"There's more I want to show you," he says with a roguish grin.
I let him lead me through the cozy back rooms of the brownstone until we reach a smaller staircase leading down. He gestures for me to go ahead. Brows furrowed in pleasant confusion, I descend carefully into inky darkness. My fingertips graze the cool plaster walls to either side, guiding me down one step at a time until I reach the cement floor of what seems to be a basement. Just as I open my mouth to ask what surprise awaits, soft amber light suddenly flickers to life. I gasped softly.
We're standing in a spacious, warmly lit art studio. Canvas paintings in various stages of completion lean against the exposed brick walls. A generously sized work table dominates the center of the room, its surface scattered with tubes of paint, brushes and charcoal. Soft music plays from a stereo system in the corner. Everything about the space feels bright, welcoming and inspired. My pulse trips with excitement as I fully process it. This is a dream art studio, complete with everything I could possibly need to rekindle my long neglected passion for creating. Tears of gratitude mist my vision. After all the darkness, now I have a space to craft beauty again.
"Do you approve?" Antonio asks. Though his tone aims for nonchalance, there's an undercurrent of vulnerability. Even now he still worries his lavish gestures could feel controlling rather than loving.
"It's absolutely perfect," I assure him sincerely, turning my brightest smile up toward him. "You spoil me thoroughly."
He laughs, visibly relieved I'm pleased by this extra surprise. "Only the best for my future wife."
I rise up on tiptoes to kiss him soundly. When we break apart, his eyes gleam mischievously. "I thought it may help ensure you don't tire of me too quickly, having a sanctuary here to escape my brooding ways."
I swat his chest playfully, unable to keep a straight face. "Well, it certainly doesn't hurt your cause." Sobering, I caress his cheek, marveling that this powerful man can still be wracked with small doubts and vulnerabilities when it comes to our relationship. "But I could never tire of you, Antonio. You're my home, wherever we are."
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