Cecilia stares at me, processing my confession.
I lean in, my voice dropping. “Or ridiculous like spending all these days making plans for us that I’m not even sure I should say out loud yet, for fear you’ll run for the hills?”
She slides off the stool. The hem of the shirt rides up dangerously high on her thighs, teasing me with every step as she circles the island to get to me. I push my chair back and she claims her spot on my lap, her bare legs wrapping around my waist, her arms looping around my neck.
“Alexander...” she whispers, before pressing her lips to mine.
The kiss deepens, and I’m ready to take her to my room, but she places her hands on my shoulders and pulls back, her breathing uneven.
“We need to have that conversation,” she says. Her voice is firm, but her pupils are blown wide, betraying the desire she’s trying to suppress.
I take a breath and kiss her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally, I press a light, quick kiss to her lips.
“You’re right. I’ll clear the table, and then we’ll talk.”
Cecilia moves to stand. “I can hel—”
“No,” I interrupt gently. I take her wine glass, top it off, and place it back in her hand. “Go to the couch. Wait for me there. I’ll take care of this.”
She smiles, steals one last quick kiss, and does as I ask, walking toward the living room with the hem of my shirt swaying around her bare legs. That view alone is enough motivation to make me load the dishwasher in record time.
Minutes later, I find her curled into the corner of the couch, one leg tucked beneath her, the wine glass resting on her knee.
I sit beside her, angling my body to face her fully. I take her free hand, lacing our fingers together.
“Before we start this conversation, tesoro, let’s make one thing clear,” I say, my tone leaving no room for doubt.
She nods, her eyes staying on mine.
“I’ll do whatever it takes for you. To be with you. I don’t care about the distance or what stands in our way—I’ll handle it. I’m not letting anything keep us apart.”
Cecilia squeezes my hand. “And I want you, Alexander. In any way I can have you.”
“Good,” I say, feeling a knot loosen from my shoulders. “Then, can I start preparing my move to New York?”
When she opens them again, I see the concern pushing through her relief.
“Alexander... your family...”
“Cecilia,” I interrupt, bringing my hand to her face, my thumb sweeping over her cheekbone. “I love my family. They will always be a priority, no matter where I live. But they want to see me happy. Happy and complete, not a man living a half-life, haunted by the absence of the woman he loves.”
I pause, letting the words sink in. I need her to understand that this isn’t just a rushed decision.
“And I will be happy wherever you are. So tell me. Without thinking about anyone else. Just you and me. What doyouwant?”
A bright smile spreads across her face, and she doesn’t hesitate.
“You,” she says simply. “Close. All the time.”
“Good.”
“What if you regret it? What if working here long-term isn’t what you want? What if one day you decide it’s not worth it... My life isn’t simple, Alexander.”
I hold her gaze, refusing to let her look away.
“Nothing worth having is ever simple,” I say firmly. “And I won’t be working forever. Where I work matters far less than who I do it for.”
I soften my voce. “Instead of imagining what could go wrong, imagine us twenty-five years from now. Celebrating our silver wedding anniversary.”
