“Happy anniversary,” she says, leaning in to hug Amber first. “Ten years. Still disgustingly cute.”
Amber laughs. “I could say the same of you and Riccardo.”
“You could.” She gives me a faux-modest smile and a wink. “The usual?”
Amber nods. “Please.”
“Perfect.” Savannah jots down the order she knows by heart. “Champagne’s on the house, of course. Our anniversary gift to you.”
“I’ll ask for a bonus gift of sparkling water too,” Amber jokes.
“Of course.” Savannah shoots Amber a knowing look that I don’t get. Old shared joke, perhaps. “Coming right up.”
Dinner is perfect. Savannah sends out a ridiculous amount of food, as usual, and Amber closes her eyes on the first bite like she always does.
“Oh my God,” she murmurs. “She’s still got it.”
“I’ll let her know you approve,” I say.
“Oh, trust me, she knows. If she hadn’t been there to feed me scraps way back when, I’m not sure I would have survived. Even her botched dishes were better than anything I’d ever had.”
“Is that so?”
“Don’t pretend you weren’t coming to Notte Bianca for her food.” She points at me with a fork. “Everyone was. I won’t be offended.”
“The food was great,” I say. “But I’m afraid what kept me coming back were the drinks.”
Amber blushes. She’s so fucking gorgeous even now, ten years and three kids later.
By the time dessert plates are cleared, Amber looks relaxed. Happy. At ease in that quiet way she only ever is with me.
Outside, the sea is dark and calm. I take her hand as we leave, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before guiding her toward the car. “Ready for your surprise?”
She squeezes back. “Lead the way, husband.”
The hotel is exactly what you’d expect. Five stars. Presidential suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the water, lights shimmering across the surface like spilled gold.
Amber steps inside and lets out a low whistle. “Okay. You may have slightly overdone it.”
“Nonsense. I could have overdone it more.”
The truth is, nothing is too good for her. I could go all out and give her the world, but I needed to take it one step at a time. Amber is still struggling to accept that she deserves nice things, and I won’t rush her. She’s already made spectacular progress over the years.
If some scars never heal, that’s fine with me. I’ll love them the same way I love the rest of her.
She wanders toward the windows, hands clasped behind her back, taking it all in. “This is beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
She turns, giving me that look. The one that says she’s pretending not to be affected.
I walk over to the table near the window and pick up the envelope I left there earlier.
“I got you something,” I say.
Her eyes soften. “Giovanni?—”
“I know,” I interrupt gently. “But let me.”
