I know marriage has no guarantees. But Marcus saw something in me, in us, and he was willing to take a chance on it. He’s offering me an amazing future—safety, security, love, passion, and a family. And now I’ve decided not to let fear hold me back, I feel a newfound sense of freedom and excitement.
For the first time, I’m letting myself believe that it might—just might—work out. That he might really love me, and he might stay. And I’m scared to hope, but I’m going to do it anyway.
*
On Saturday we go and visit Ruth and the puppies, and we take a last long walk around the farm. On Sunday, we finally head back to the city.
I’m sad to leave the farmhouse, but excited too. Next week I’m back at school, and the sale of the house at Stanley Point is close to going through, because there’s obviously no finance involved, and Marcus has already organized a builder’s report that has returned with no conditions. So there’s lots to do, and I’m caught up in a whirlwind of activity.
Marcus is busy at work, too. The board is supporting Edward’s decision to back him, but there’s other news that has thrown a spanner in the works.
“The Rutherford Group has returned with a revised proposal,” Marcus tells me over dinner one night. “They’re offering a strategic partnership rather than a full acquisition. Capital injection, two seats on the board, and an option to increase their stake over time.”
I frown, because I can tell by his face how uneasy he feels about that. “What was the outcome?”
“Caesar said it’s a takeover in slow motion, and he’s right. Equally, the money they’re offering is hard to turn down. We’re taking some time to think about it. Anyway. Enough about board politics. We have something much more important to talk about.”
“I know.” I glow with excitement at the thought that the house sale goes through tomorrow. “I can’t wait.”
“Should happen mid-afternoon. As soon as we know, we’ll make sure everything’s signed and pick up the keys.”
Sure enough, at three p.m. the next day we’re standing out the front of our new home, looking at the beautiful villa with the keys in Marcus’s hand. Light- and dark-pink roses grow in bushes around the path. It literally has roses around the door.
“Come on,” he says, and he leads me up the steps onto the verandah and unlocks the door.
We go inside and, hand in hand, wander through the house. It’s our first time here together, and we point things out to each other that we’ve missed before—the gorgeous bay window in the front room; the flower-shaped lights over the central island in the kitchen; the real fireplace in the master bedroom, which prompts him to pull me into his arms and nuzzle my neck as he promises to make love to me on the rug in front of the fire.
Giggling, I walk with him to the main bathroom, and we go inside. A large white bath with clawed feet stands to one side on a marble plinth. The high windows are made from stained glass,and they scatter jeweled light across the white tiled walls, which makes me catch my breath.
“It’s lovely,” Marcus says, looking around. His gaze comes back to me, and he sees me looking at him and raises his eyebrows. “What?”
I slip my handbag off my shoulder, open it, and pull something out. His eyes widen.
It’s a pregnancy test.
“Still no sign?” he asks, excitement lighting his eyes.
I shake my head. “I’m two days late. It’s not long… but the test can supposedly pick up pregnancy from the day of the missed period. I thought we could try the test now. I mean… I know it’ll be disappointing if it’s negative… but if it’s not…”
He pulls me into his arms and gives me a big hug. “If it’s negative, it just means we need to keep trying, and I’m hardly going to be disappointed with that. It’s going to be fabulous news either way.”
I chuckle and hug him back. “There’s usually a thirty percent chance of getting pregnant, right?”
“Yeah. Pretty good odds.” He cups my face and kisses me. “Go on, then. I’ll wait outside.”
He pops outside while I undo the box with shaking hands and pee on the stick. Then, as I wash my hands, he comes back in.
“Damn,” I say, “no towels,” and I dry my hands on a tissue.
Smiling, he takes my hands in his. Mine are trembling, and he rubs them, then hugs me again. “I love you,” he says.
“I love you too.”
“Whatever happens this time, this house will hear the patter of tiny feet,” he states. “It’s written in the stars.”
I nod, move back, and rub my nose. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
