There is a small round table with candles, a bottle of champagne, and two crystal glasses on it. It’s sitting right near the spot where we spoke our truths all that time ago.
“Rici,” I whisper. “You are perfect.” We kiss softly, our lips linger over each other’s.
“Olivia, non posso vivere senza di te. Ti amo con tutto il cuore. Vuoi sposarmi, amore mio?” He goes straight into the translation. “Olivia,” he whispers. “I cannot live without you. I love you with all of my heart. Will you marry me, my love?”
He drops to his knee and pulls a ring from his pocket.
My hands fly to mouth in shock. “Rici,” I whisper.
He slides the ring on my finger and then presses my hand to his face. “Answer me, my love.”
I smile through tears. “Si.” I drop to my knee beside him and kiss him softly. “A million times, si.”
27
Olivia
Enrico’s eyes search mine making my heart constrict at the overwhelming love passing between us.
It’s emotion overload, and my own eyes well with tears.
Marriage.
“Are you sure?” I whisper up at him. “We’ve only just found
each other. It’s so soon.”
“Bella, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” His lips brush mine. “Why should we wait? I know what I want.”
This is insane, but somehow I know it’s right, and I smile softly.
Marriage.
“We have to get up.” I wince.
He pulls me up and takes me into his arms to kiss me once more. It’s not hurried or sexual. This is a kiss from the heart, and a promise of a life together.
Our life.
“Ti amo,” I whisper up at him.
“I love you, too.” He takes my face in his hands, and I smile against his lips, unable to believe what’s transpired here tonight.
We’ve developed this quirky habit of declaring our love for each other in our opposing languages. I always say it in Italian. He says it in English.
However it comes out, it’s perfect every time, and it means so much.
“Do you like your ring?” Enrico asks.
I hold my hand out and look down at it. Is this really happening? The ring isn’t fancy and showy. It’s a gold band with a single solitaire diamond—a big diamond, but simple all the same.
“It’s perfect.”
It feels heavy on my finger and is going to take some time getting used to. I smile as I stare at it.
“I love it and I love you.” He breaks out into a big, beautiful smile. “Finally, a present you like.”
God. What must it be like to be with me? “It’s the only present that matters.”