“I’m allowed one cheesy line,” I said, stepping back just enough to reach into my
pocket. “Especially if it comes with this.”
Nicola froze as I dropped to one knee in the middle of my family’s vineyard, dust clinging to my trousers, the sky going pink and gold behind her.
I held up the box and opened it slowly.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Nicola Moretti, you’re the girl of my dreams,” I said quietly, “I love our life and I want to spend every day with you. On the hard days, the magical ones, the quiet ones, and every day in between. I want a life that starts and ends with you—messy and loud and full of people we love. Will you marry me?”
She didn’t speak at first. Just stared at me like I’d knocked the air out of her lungs.
Then she laughed—one hand to her chest, the other swiping at her eyes.
“You idiot,” she whispered, “Yes. Of course, yes.”
I stood and slid the ring onto her finger. It fit like it had been waiting there all along.
Cheers echoed across the lawn. Lucia stood and handed the baby to Alexander so she could throw her arms around us. Gia shouted, “FINALLY!” like she’d been waiting two years for this exact moment. All our friends and family celebrated with us.
And as Nicola leaned into me, her arms wrapped tight around my shoulders, she whispered against my temple. “I love you,mi amore.”
