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“Please,” Nicole retorted, rolling her eyes, “you three could learn a thing or two about charm from Theodore.”
“Is that so?” Ethan raised an eyebrow, feigning a bow toward Theodore. “We are in the presence of a master then.”
Nicole wanted the floor to swallow her up. She didn’t mind that her brothers were teasing Theodore, but they should have at least given him a proper greeting before they started in on him.
Theodore, unfazed, joined in the banter. “I assure you, it’s all about sincerity,” he said, offering Nicole a supportive glance. “And a willingness to face dragons, both literal and metaphorical.”
“Dragons, huh? Our Nicole’s cooking not up to scratch?” Alexander quipped, earning a playful swat from Nicole and laughter around the table.
“Actually,” Theodore replied, his eyes locking with Nicole’s in shared understanding, “I have yet to try her culinary skills.” He reached for her hand beneath the table.
As the meal unfolded, the conversation ebbed and flowed with stories of childhood escapades and future aspirations. Throughout it all, Nicole felt a deepening sense of contentment. Here, in this house brimming with love and laughter, she envisioned a life where duty and devotion walked hand in hand—where every jest was a token of kinship, and every shared glance with Theodore promised a tomorrow filled with wonder.
“More wine, sir?” her father offered.
“Please,” Theodore accepted, his voice harmonious within the chorus of familial affection, “but I insist, call me Theo.”
Steam rose from the turkey, now carved and distributed with a flourish of her father’s skilled hands. The trimmings were spread out like an artist’s palette. So pleased to see Theodore fitting in with her brothers, Nicole felt a warmth run through her body.
“Pass the cranberry sauce, please,” she requested, her voice carrying over the clink of cutlery on china plates.
“Here you go,” Theodore said, handing her the bowl with an easy smile. He never once seemed out of place, even as he navigated the casual intimacy of this family setting.
Nicole spooned the ruby-red concoction onto her plate, her thoughts drifting to the whirlwind their lives had become. “You know, there was a time when I thought I would never experience something as simple and lovely as this dinner again.”
Her mother paused, a forkful of stuffing halfway to her lips. “Nicole, darling, whatever do you mean?”
“Ah, well...” Nicole began, her gaze lingering on the golden skin of the turkey, remembering the cold fear that had gripped her during those harrowing hours. “It’s just that, after my little... adventure, moments like these seem all the more precious.”
“Adventure?” her father echoed, the joviality in his eyes replaced by a flicker of concern.
“Kidnapped, Dad. I was kidnapped.” The words fell between them, stark against the backdrop of mealtime chatter.
A collective inhale swept through the room. “You were what?” Ethan’s knife clattered to his plate as he stared at his sister in disbelief.
“Kidnapped, yes, but obviously I’m here now, so all’s well that ends well.” She waved a hand dismissively, though her heart beat faster as she thought about her time in captivity.
“Obviously,” Alexander murmured, the humor drained from his voice. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because it’s over, and I didn’t want anyone to worry unnecessarily.” On cue, Nicole offered a reassuring smile. “Theodore found me, and all is well.”
“Unnecessarily!” Her mother’s exclamation was a mix of horror and indignation.
“Let’s not make a fuss,” Nicole implored, reaching for her glass of water.
Theodore’s hand found hers beneath the table once more. “Nicole has shown remarkable strength throughout the ordeal,” he interjected.
“Remarkable doesn’t begin to cover it,” her father muttered, still visibly shaken.
The meal continued, albeit with a newfound sobriety. Laughter resurfaced in fits and starts, but the shadow of Nicole’s revelation lingered. When dessert had been served and the conversation lulled into a comfortable hum, Theodore excused himself from the table.
“May I have a word, sir?” he asked, standing beside Nicole’s father.
“Of course,” her father replied, curiosity edging his features as he followed Theodore into the living room.
Inside the room, filled with comfortable furniture and a large screen television, Theodore took a deep breath. “Sir, I’ve come to care deeply for your daughter,” he began, his voice steady despite the weight of his request. “She embodies a spirit and courage that I admire greatly. With your permission, I’d like to ask for Nicole’s hand in marriage.”
Her father regarded him, his gaze searching. “You’re serious about this?”
