AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A moment stretched into eternity as Theo looked past me, perhaps seeing his daughter in place of where I sat. Then he exhaled slowly, his decision coming forth on a breath tinged with hope.
“If you mean those words,” he said at last, “then you have my blessing.”
Relief washed over me like rain over parched earth—I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed to hear those words until they were spoken.
“Thank you,” I breathed out, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from both our shoulders.
Theo nodded once more, an unspoken contract sealed between us—a promise for Mila’s future and an oath for mine.
The glow of the city lights couldn’t match the brightness in my chest as I drove back to my penthouse. The old man had given me his blessing, a sacred trust that buoyed me with a purpose I’d never felt before. I was going to propose to Mila.
My mind buzzed with ideas as I walked through the doors of my building. It needed to be perfect—no, it needed to be Mila. Extravagance had its place, but for her, it was the intimacy and meaning that would make her heart soar.
“Stuart,” I called my assistant first thing in the morning, unable to contain the enthusiasm spilling over each word. “I need your help with something personal.”
His voice came through the phone, equal parts curious and alert. “Anything, Cass.”
“I’m planning to propose to Mila,” I confessed, a smile in my voice.
There was a pause, and then a chuckle. “Well, it’s about time. What do you need?”
“Creativity, discretion, and probably a miracle,” I joked before getting down to brass tacks. “I want something private but unforgettable.”
“You’ve got it,” Stuart said confidently. “I’ll start putting together some ideas.”
The next few days were a whirlwind of meetings and phone calls. Melody and Josie were roped in too; they knew Mila’s heart perhaps even better than I did.
“Picture this,” Melody said as we huddled in a corner booth at Breadcetera, away from prying eyes. “An art gallery showing just for Mila—your favorite memories together captured on canvas.”
I considered it, nodding slowly. “That’s good—personal and heartfelt.”
“And at the end,” Josie piped up, “a painting of the place you first kissed—only she finds you standing there with the ring.”
I could almost see it—the surprise lighting up her face, the gasp parting her lips. It was right—it was us.
The problem was, of course, that technically the place we first kissed was a room at Wintertide when we had masked sex during the ball. And our second kiss was in a flooded basement… but I was sure I’ll figure something out.
From there, every detail was orchestrated with care—the rental of a small gallery space under a pseudonym, the commissioning of paintings from artists who swore secrecy, even choosing the perfect ring—a sapphire surrounded by diamonds that echoed the blue of her masquerade gown.
Each step felt like a note in a symphony building to a crescendo—the string quartet booked to play her favorite songs hidden behind a screen; the champagne on ice waiting for that ‘yes’; the velvet box that felt like it pulsed with life every time I touched it.
Days turned into hours, hours into minutes. And as everything fell into place with clockwork precision, my heart raced at the thought of laying it all at Mila’s feet—my love, my life, my future.
The night before the proposal, I was alone in the gallery among the shrouded paintings that told our story—a tale that was just beginning. Tomorrow would be our masterpiece unveiled.
The final brushstroke of planning for Mila’s proposal lay before me, a tapestry of intimate moments and heartfelt surprises, when my phone shattered the silence. Mila’s name flashed on the screen, a bolt out of the blue that sent a jolt through me.
“Hey, what’s—”
“Cass,” her voice was a frayed thread, barely holding together. “It’s Dad. He’s… it’s bad.”
I bolted upright from my desk chair. “What happened? Is he—”
“He collapsed and we called the ambulance. We’re at the hospital now,” she rushed out between shaky breaths. “I can’t do this alone.”
A cold tide washed over me, pulling under the warmth of our future dreams. “I’m on my way,” I said, already moving, grabbing keys and coat in one fluid motion.
“Cass…” Her voice cracked like thin ice underfoot.
