A Million Different Ways to Lose You (Horn Duet 2)

He turned me to face him. His eyes traveled from my eyes to my mouth, studying me with an intensity and seriousness that said it was important he remember this moment…that it might be the last time. The amusement dropped right off my face, a twinge of panic parking itself in my gut. When I reached up to cup his face, his eyes fluttered shut, as if he was summoning courage for what was to come next.

“What’s wrong?” I said, the worry making me speak more harshly that I intended.

“I love you, Vera.” I rushed to return the sentiment, but he stopped me with an sweet close mouthed kiss, whatever I was about to say banished by the touch of his lips. Pulling away far enough to peer into my eyes again, he said in a gravelly, anxious murmur, “I can’t get down on bended knee, but I am throwin’ myself at your feet. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

My eyes instantly began to water, tears sliding down my face unimpeded. So much for not being a crier. Then again, everything I knew to be true had been turned upside down the day I’d met this man…this incredibly wonderful man. There were a million reasons it was a bad idea for him to bind himself legally to me. However, there was one that trumped all the rest. Was it enough to sustain a lifetime together? The cynic in me scoffed at the notion. And yet the disappointed romantic in me was reminded that I had left disappointment by the wayside the minute he walked into my life.

I linked my hands behind his neck, love and hope undoubtedly living openly in my eyes, and jumped into the unknown. “I would be honored to be your wife.”

I knew the moment my words hit their mark and sunk in, when he allowed himself to believe them. His face split in a blinding white grin that he only brought out on very special occasions. I would’ve done anything for one of those smiles.

He crushed me to his chest and dropped kisses on my mouth, my temple, my nose in a frenzy of unbridled joy. Lost in the moment, I giggled like a teenager, the sound fading as a strong gust of wind carried it away.

A wild glint sparked in his whisky colored eyes. “When do you want to get married? Tomorrow?”

“What?” I shouted, shocked back to reality.

“We can fly to Venice and do it there,” he added quickly, his expression eager. It was then that I realized he was serious. Questions were thrown at me in such rapid-fire succession that I only caught was every other word.

Church?

Fly everybody in?

Just us?

“Sebastian––” I said, interrupting.

Not registering my prompt, he continued full steam ahead. “The jet is waiting for us at the airport. We could do it today if you want?”

“What?!” I kept repeating like an idiot. He did that to me––often.

“Shit, I almost forgot,” he said, digging into his pants pocket.

I could no longer blink, my eyebrows as high as my hairline. A deep, blue egg sat in the middle of his wide palm. A shade between cornflower and electric blue, the stone glowed, pulsed with life as if lit from within.

“It’s a Kashmir sapphire, rare, one of the first mined by R.V. Gaines in the 1940’s.”

I barely heard him I was so mesmerized by it. Cautiously, I picked up the ring. The stone was set in a very delicate platinum and diamond band that only complimented the audacity of the gem. Turning it left and right, I watched it catch the light and reflect it back like velvet nap.

“It’s said that sapphires are a guide for travelers and seekers.” His eyes were downcast, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. He slipped the ring on my fourth finger. It fit perfectly. I wasn’t surprised he knew my size, Sebastian had always expended more energy on me than I was comfortable with. I held my hand up. The oval stone almost covered the entire length of skin between my knuckle and the base of my finger.

“I saw it and thought of you…my traveler.” He raked my hair back and held my face tenderly. “Unpack your bags and stay a while,” he whispered, his lips hovering over mine. “Stay with me.”

I’m the one that hurried to close the distance between us, kissing him with everything I had. Not for the ring, although it was beautiful, or the magnificent location, very romantic. But because of who he was––my lover, my friend, my conscience, my heart––so bravely baring his soul. My world began and ended with him.

To this day, I know less about the magic that causes two people to fall in love than I do about quantum physics. Such mysterious alchemy. But what I knew to be true from that moment on was absolute. Regardless of time and distance, we would always find a way back to each other.