Chapter 14 - A PROPOSAL WITHOUT A CONTRACT
Six months later, I returned to Chicago.
Elio met me at the airport.
No entourage.
No spectacle.
Just him.
When I saw him, my heart raced.
He smiled.
“Welcome home.”
I laughed through tears.
“Hello, husband.”
He opened his arms.
I ran into them.
For a long moment, we held each other.
Then he kissed me.
Gently.
Warmly.
Like a man who had spent six months learning patience.
That evening, Elio took me to the restored conservatory.
The lemon trees had been replanted.
The fountain repaired.
The walls painted a soft cream.
Where his mother's painting had once hung, there was now an empty space.
I looked at it.
Elio smiled faintly.
“I haven't decided what belongs there.”
I reached into my bag.
Pulled out a small wrapped canvas.
He frowned.
“What is that?”
I smiled.
“Open it.”
Inside was a painting I'd made in Florence.
A woman standing beside a lake.
Inspired by his mother's lost work.
Not a copy.
A new interpretation.
Elio stared.
His eyes filled.
“Ginevra.”
I swallowed.
“I wanted to give you something.”
He touched the frame.
For a moment, he couldn't speak.
Then whispered:
“Thank you.”
I smiled.
“You're welcome.”
Elio turned toward me.
Then slowly knelt.
My heart stopped.
He took out a small velvet box.
Inside was a simple ring.
Not extravagant.
Not designed to impress anyone.
Just beautiful.
“Ginevra.”
His voice trembled.
“We were married because other people decided we should be.”
My eyes filled.
He continued.
“I want to ask you something no one asked before.”
He took a breath.
“Will you choose me?”
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
Elio continued.
“Not because of our families.”
“Not because of a contract.”
“Not because you owe me anything.”
He looked at me.
“But because you want a life with me.”
I began crying.
Then smiled.
“Yes.”
Elio closed his eyes.
“Yes?”
I nodded.
“Yes, Elio.”
He stood.
I wrapped my arms around him.
And beneath the warm lights of the conservatory, we kissed.
May you like
Not as strangers bound by an agreement.
But as two people choosing each other.
