LUKE: That doesn't matter to me. What matters is that we're compatible and we love each other. Do you love me?
ALEXA: Of course, I do, but...
LUKE: Yes or no. There is no but.
I hoped that my Yoda reference would lighten the mood, but it didn't seem to work.
ALEXA: Your mother said love is never enough.
LUKE: No, it isn't enough, but we have more than 'just' love. We have intellectual compatibility. We have clear sexual chemistry. We have the same sense of humor. The love part just cements the decision. It makes everything else support the idea of getting married.
ALEXA: We'll talk about this later, okay?
LUKE: Okay, but I want you to tell that brain of yours that my mother is just trying to undermine your sense of confidence in our relationship. She's trying to make you feel inadequate but you're not. You are more than adequate. You're perfect for me.
ALEXA: I'm not perfect...
LUKE: You are to me. You are for me. I love you with all my heart and I can't wait for us to be married. I want you to erase everything my mother said to you about whether you're adequate, okay? Seriously...
ALEXA: *sigh* I'll try.
LUKE: Okay. We'll talk when I get home. I love you.
ALEXA: I love you.
I exhaled, trying to calm my beating heart. I was furious at my mother for trying to make Alexa doubt her adequacy for me as a wife.
She was more than adequate, and I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life showing her exactly that.
Chapter Twelve
Luke
I went back up to the hotel and when I got to our room, there was Alexa, sitting at the desk, working on her computer.
"There you are," I said and went over behind her, squeezing her shoulders and giving her a kiss on her cheek.
She turned to me and smiled softly. "Here I am."
"Tell me, " I said. “Tell me what my mother said to make you so upset. Tell me everything.”
She shrugged while I sat on the sofa and pulled her over with me. "Your family home is beautiful. Eleven bedrooms and eleven bathrooms? That rooftop patio is amazing. I loved the view."
She sat on my lap, her arms around my neck.
"It is pretty nice, I guess," I said, trying to assess her state of mind. "How was my mother?"
"She was the perfect hostess. We had a lovely lunch with cream of asparagus soup, lemon shrimp linguine and lemon strawberry chiffon cake. And the Vinho Verde was amazing and paired very well with the shellfish."
I frowned, because she still wasn't telling me what I wanted to know. "That's nice. Tell me what my mother said to upset you. "
She shrugged like it didn’t matter, but I knew she was upset. "She was a very pleasant conversationalist, asking me questions about my childhood and upbringing. I saw a lovely Steinway grand piano in the apartment. You took lessons for five years?"
"I did," I said and stroked her cheek. "Tell me. I need to know what she said that made you doubt us."
She sighed, and I could sense the reluctance in her. She smiled finally, but the smile didn't really reach her eyes. She seemed sad.
"Tell me," I said and held her eyes. "She said something or did something that upset you."