“Shall we?” I ask, reaching for her hand.
“Lead the way,” she says.
We move to the door.
“Do the honors.”
Wendy slides her key into the door, and it turns with a click. When it swings open, the smell of old wood rushes over us.
She gasps. “It’s beautiful.”
The circular room is bare stone with thick glass windows. A spiral staircase winds up through the center of the tower. Late sun pushes through the glass, filling the space with warm golden light that moves across the walls as the clouds shift outside.
Wendy walks the perimeter of the room, touching the walls with her fingertips. “Can we go up?”
“Absolutely.”
She takes the stairs first, and I follow behind her, watching her hand trail along the iron rail as we climb higher. The staircase curves tight around the center column. The higher we go, the more the light changes. When we step into the lantern room, the entire world opens up.
Wendy walks straight to the glass, and her hand presses flat against it. The ocean wraps around us in every direction. From up here, I can see the full length of Coconut Beach stretching north along the coast.
“Dyson …” Her voice is barely there. “This view …”
“I know,” I say, staring at her.
She moves along the glass, taking it in from every angle. When she reaches the western side, she smiles.
“The sun will set soon,” she says, grinning wide. “I’ve always wanted to experience this.”
Soon, it will touch the water, and night will fall.
The sunset is behind her, and the light wraps around her. My chest is so tight that I can barely breathe. I’ve closed deals worth billions without flinching. I’ve stared down boardrooms full of men twice my age and never broken eye contact. Right now, I can feel my pulse in my fingertips.
“Wendy.”
“Dyson,” she says.
I move closer to her. When I reach for her hands, mine shake. She looks down at my fingers and then back up at my face. As the sun drops, the room gets warmer, and I breathe until I can trust my voice.
“I came to this island because I was forced. I’m staying because of you. The moment our eyes met, my life changed. I knew then you were the person for me. My soul knew you were it.”
A tear slides down her cheek.
I lower myself to one knee. Her grip on my hands tightens, and I can feel her pulse hammering through her fingers, matching mine.
“I choose you, Wendy Winslow. Every morning. Every evening. Every storm.” I let go of her hand long enough to pull the ring from my pocket.
It’s a princess cut diamond on a platinum band, a classic, something she would wear.
“I know I can’t live without you. Wendy, please do me the greatest honor and marry me. Be my wife. Please choose me.”
She drops to her knees in front of me so we’re face-to-face on the floor. Her hands take my face, and her thumbs brush my cheeks. She’s looking at me like I’m the only thing that makes sense in her life.
“Yes,” she says, and her voice is steady even though her hands aren’t. “I choose you too, Dyson Carter Banks.”
I slide the ring onto her finger, and it takes two tries because my hands are useless. She watches me fumble and giggles, but we’re both so fucking giddy that it doesn’t even matter. When the ring is in place, she holds her hand up between us, and the diamond catches the last sliver of sunset. Tiny reflections scatter across the walls.
Her arms loop around my neck, and I pull her in. Her lips find mine, and the whimper she lets out against me wrecks me.
