I grew up close to the soil. My peace lived between rows of lavender, with bees in my ears and dirt under my nails. There was something sacred about walking barefoot across ancient ground—olive trees that had stood through centuries of storms, grapevines with roots that ran deeper than blood.
After we returned home and I hung it in my closet, the dust from today would remain stitched into its hem. That was the point. Let it carry the imprint of where I said yes. Let it remember for me.
We didn’t speak again until we reached the bend just before the ridge came into view, where Kimi, Marco, and Colette waited. The path was shaded, the air still, like even the island was holding its breath.
Kimi stood beside Marco, both of them in matching cream linen shirts—collars open, sleeves cuffed, the fabric soft and perfectly pressed. Their trousers were tailored, stone-colored linen that tapered just above the ankle, and both wore sleek brown leather sandals that somehow made them look richer. And more dangerous.
Their only accessories were slim watches and matching tartan sashes tied around their waists like belts. I wondered ifthey were doing it as a jab at Callum, or if that was Callum’s choice.
Kimi’s hair was slicked back in a sharp side part, not a strand out of place. Marco’s loose, flawless Italian waves were a little looser and slightly windblown, like he’d stepped off a yacht. Both of their jawlines had been shaped and trimmed to lethal perfection.
Next to me, Ivy groaned. “Bloody hell. Why does he have to be hottoday?”
I snickered and elbowed her. “He’s always hot.”
Lucy let out a dreamy little sigh, sounding shockingly feral for her, and whispered, “Don’tevertell him I said this, because he’ll literally combust from smugness, but… Kimi could read the phone book to me and I’d fold.”
Ivy choked. “Oh myGod, Songbird, do you have a heartbeat between your legs right now?”
I nearly tripped laughing. “Angel, blink twice if you’re experiencing your first existential sexual crisis.”
Lucy flushed scarlet. “I—I don’t know what’s happening.”
As soon as they spotted us rounding the bend, Kimi gave a low whistle, followed by a slow, dramatic once-over. Marco let out a gasp so exaggerated it made Ivy snort.
Lucy stopped beside me, one hand clutching her guitar. She leaned in. “Go slow. Let him ache for it.” Her whisper was so soft it melted against my skin. I smiled, already aching myself. Then she kissed my cheek and stepped onto the path, disappearing toward the vineyard edge where the view opened up wide and the sea stretched.
“Oh, mon Dieu,” Marco said, pressing one hand to his chest. “She’sfloating.Is she floating?”
“I don’t think my heart can take this,” Kimi added with faux solemnity, shaking his head. “She’s not walking, she’s gliding.”
“Someone will need to track Fraser’s vitals,” Marco whined. “That man’s about to black out when he sees her.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, cheeks flushing as warmth rushed to the surface. Their praise wasn’t flirty or performative. It was adoring. Ridiculous. Completely over the top. And somehow,exactlywhat I needed. Like the oldest parts of me—the little girl who never felt pretty enough, never felt chosen—were being held up and worshipped for simply existing.
“Stop it,” I teased, unable to keep the grin off my face. “You’re going to make me trip.”
“I will catch you,” Marco said dramatically, opening his arms like a soap opera star. “And then I will carry you to the altar myself.”
Ivy waved him off. “Shut up, Bianchi.” Then she turned to me, gave me a slow, careful once-over, and her grin softened into something fierce and proud. “Hair’s perfect. Boobs are perfect. Veil is doing that slow-motion wind goddess thing,” she said, eyes glinting. “You’re unreal, Frenchie.”
Lucy’s voice drifted through the trees along with a soft acoustic strum floating.
Colette clapped once, cutting in with a sharp, knowing smile. “This is it. It’s time.”
Marco winked at me, then stepped aside, holding his arm out for Ivy to take.
Kimi caught my eye and stepped forward.
He pulled me into an unexpected but grounding embrace. “I’m so fucking happy for you, Ray,” he murmured into my hair, Finnish accent clipped and husky. When he pulled back, his expression shifted. “For the goddess,” he said softly before slipping something into my free hand. I glanced down, staring at a small folded square of parchment tied with a sliver of tartan ribbon.
My pulse tripped over itself.
“He said to read it before you reach him,” Kimi added. “He’s been holding his breath since sunrise.”
Then he offered his arm to Colette, escorting her down the path. Marco and Ivy followed on their heels, their silhouettes framed in sun-dappled gold as they disappeared toward the grove.
I exhaled.
