She considers this, and I can see her imagining it. Little voices speaking Italian and English, learning to appreciate both the culture we're preserving and the protection that makes it possible.
"Yes," she says finally. "Yes, I want that. All of it."
"Then it's settled."
She laughs and shakes her head. "Most people date for years before getting engaged."
I reach into my jacket and pull out the ring I've been carrying for a week, waiting for the right moment. It's not traditional. Instead, it’s a deep blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds, set in platinum. Beautiful, but practical enough for a woman who's going to be working with her hands to build something real.
"Oh my God," she breathes as I slip it onto her finger. "It's perfect. You were carrying this in your pocket?"
"You sound surprised."
"I am. It’s perfect. How did you know what I liked?"
"I pay attention."
She holds up her hand, admiring the way the stone catches the light from the villa. "When do we get married?"
"As soon as you want. Tomorrow, is good with me."
"Tomorrow?" She laughs. "Don't we need to plan something? Invite people? Make arrangements?"
"Madison, I own this village. If you want to get married tomorrow, we can get married tomorrow."
"But what about our families? Our friends?"
The question makes me pause. Madison's family and friends exist in a world completely separate from this one. A world where her marrying me would be seen as either the ultimate romantic adventure or the most dangerous mistake of her life.
"We'll figure that out," I say. "Whatever kind of ceremony you want is fine with me. I’ll make it happen.”
“Even if I invite my friends back to Sicily?”
“Would there be a wedding without them?” I reply.
When we finally go inside, Madison immediately starts making lists for the wedding, guest accommodations, ceremony locations, menu planning. The same focused energy she brought to her tourism project, now applied to our wedding.
I watch her work and realize that this is what I've been missing my entire adult life. Not just love, not just partnership, but someone who sees potential where I see problems. Someone who believes we can build something beautiful together.
Madison Sullivan came to Monte Vento to start over.
Instead, she's going to help me create something entirely new.
And soon, she'll be my wife.
Epilogue: Maddie
The harvest festival is everything I dreamed it could be and more.
The village square is alive with music and laughter, strings of lights crisscrossing between the ancient buildings, casting everything in a warm golden glow. Long tables overflow with food prepared by every family in Monte Vento. Traditional dishes that haven't been made in years, recipes pulled from memory and handed down through generations.
I stand on the terrace of our villa, watching the celebration unfold below, and can barely recognize the dying village I arrived in months ago.
Children are running between the tables, their voices echoing off the stone buildings. Teenagers who might have left for Rome or Milan are instead teaching tourists traditional dances. Elderly residents who had resigned themselves to watching their community fade away are now the honored keepers of customs being celebrated and preserved.
And at the center of it all, Signora Ricci presides over the baking competition like a benevolent queen, her laughter carrying across the square every time someone asks for her secret ingredients.
"Admiring your handiwork?" Enzo asks, joining me on the terrace with two glasses of wine.
