Rewriting History

“You’re looking very Italian tonight. Very sexy,” I wink at him.

“And you look gorgeous as always, my darling.” He kisses my bare shoulder. “Is this trip everything you thought it’d be?”

“It’s amazing. Being here is so surreal. I’m in love with this place,” I grin, my mind fantasizing about living us here.

“Just this place?” He raises his eyebrow, a glint in his eye.

“You know I love you too,” I chuckle, kissing his cheek. “But only a teeny bit more than this place,” I smirk. That earns me a dazzling smile and a kiss to the temple.

The exquisite smell of fresh local seafood is making my mouth water. The waiters have laid little plates of marinated octopus, salt and pepper calamari, grilled prawns, warm green olives, pita bread, and an array of dips in front of us. My stomach grumbles as my senses move into overload. You can’t get Greek hors d’oeuvres anywhere better than the country of origin.

“Oh my God, do we have to leave tomorrow?” I pout, talking with my mouth full.

Shaking his head, Eli feeds me another calamari. “I wish we could extend another week.”

“If you wanted to bring me back here, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I suppose that’s one of the perks of me being a teacher and you being a student,” he laughs. “Though teaching was much more fun when you were my student.”

I narrow my eyes at him, but my smile gives me away.

“Come on, pretty girl, we’ve got one more stop before we can go back,” he says as he signs the credit card slip.

In a state of bliss from a full stomach and a few glasses of wine, we walk from the restaurant to the main part of Athens is brisk. The night is still light and children are playing soccer in the street while doting mothers try and get them inside. Everything is white in Greece, and the country looks so clean. Locals have painted the streets in color with towels hanging over the balconies and potted flowers lining the windows.

Arriving out front of a museum, we start walking up the steps. I recognize it immediately. We tried getting in several times but the lines were so long and the museum was so full that they had to stop people from entering.

“We can’t go in there, it closed at eight,” I tell him suspiciously.

Eli ignores me and continues pulling me toward the front door. A short, plump man in his sixties is standing at the door.

“Welcome to National Archaeological Museum, Jill, I’ll be your personal tour guide for this evening,” he says in his heavily accented voice.

I turn to Eli and gasp as he smiles back at me proudly. I can’t help myself; I jump on him, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as my lips find his.

“Oh my God, Eli, really?” I laugh as he grins at me. “How the fuck did you manage this?”

“Elijah volunteered here when he was a young man living in our amazing country,” our tour guide replies. “My name is Marcel, I was a university professor and Eli was my star student many years ago.” He smiles kindly at Eli.

“It really is great to see you again. We had a lot of fun back then,” Eli says, patting Marcel on the back.

The museum is silent as we walk through, and it’s an eerie feeling when you’re surrounded by exhibitions that date back as far as 500BC. I marvel at the ceramic antiques and the stories on Greek civilization that go with each collection. Hand in hand, we spend an hour walking through the museum with Marcel directing us. Tugging on my hand, Eli pulls me toward an exhibit.

“Come over here, I want you to see something.”

Lit up in a case is a sculpture of a man. He’s holding a plate, and the definition of his muscles is evident. I’m amazed at how far civilization has come since this age. The structures they’ve built and the way they lived is just phenomenal. I could spend days exploring this museum alone. I glance down to read the description.

WILL YOU MARRY ME, JILL?

My lungs stop expanding as I hold my breath, my heart beating in my ears. With widened eyes, the tears are starting to form as I watch Eli kneel down in front of me. I gasp as he opens the black jewelry case he’s holding. Resting on a black pillow sits a delicate diamond ring set in white gold. The diamond is stunning. I cover my mouth with my shaking hands as he begins to speak.

“Jill,” he begins. I can hear the nervousness in his voice. “We fit so perfectly together and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Will you do the honor of being my wife?”

I laugh through the wet tears that are streaming down my face. Eli is waiting patiently for my answer. We’ve been inseparable since we met, and I know there is nobody else for me.

“Yes,” I whisper, not even needing to think about how I’ll answer the question I’ve wished to hear for a long time. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Taking the ring out of the box, Eli slides the ring onto my shaking finger.