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“Marriage means being a team.” I can see as the hope starts to return in his eyes. “It doesn’t mean deciding things on your own and buying million dollar houses on a whim.”
“Two million.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. “Itmeans,” I say a little louder. “It’s means that we talk about things like this and we make those decisions together.”
He nods. “I know. I know that this was—”
“A lot?”
“A hell of a lot,” he says with a wry grin.
“You’ll really wait for me?” I ask. “Because I can’t move here just yet. I need to get something off the ground for myself back home.”
I tense slightly, because there’s a chance that his next words might bring everything crashing down around me. He could just ask me to quit trying to start my own company back home, to sell my house, and fly out to be with him. And if he does, I think that might just spell the end for us.
“I know how much your work means to you, sweetheart.”
I brace myself. Here it comes. The beginning of the end for us.
“And I’d never ask you to drop everything for me.”
The tension in my body seeps out of me like a popped balloon almost instantly. Why was I worried about this?
“All I want for you is to be happy. And if that means staying in London for a while and getting AWH Interiorsoff the ground—”
“AWH Interiors?”
He flashes me a grin. “Amber Wyatt-Hawthorne Interiors.”
I snort and smack his chest gently. “Just AW Interiors, thank you very much. You may have bought me a house, but I don’t see a ring on my finger.”
“Sweetheart, I would have a ring on your finger by the end of the day if that’s what you really wanted. But I’m not in a rush. I just needed you to know how serious I am about you. About us. I’m in this for the long haul.”
I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder. “You bought me a house.”
He chuckles. “I did.”
“This is going to be our home.”
“It is.”
“I still can’t believe this.”
He shrugs, his lips lifting into a smile. “There’s a lot of that going around today. I can’t believe you love me.”
“I think I’ve loved you for a little while now,” I admit.
“Me too,” he says. He tilts my chin up and kisses me softly, sweetly. “We’re going to have a good life together, sweetheart. I promise you that.”
My heart swells so much, I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter my ribcage. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
He huffs out a laugh and leans in for another kiss. “I hope you do.”
31
EPILOGUE: FINN
TWO YEARS LATER
