“You earned this,” I said. “You did not become Dr. Ripley by accident. It was through courage and persistence.”
Her hands fisted slightly in my shirt. “I know,” she said, voice shaking. “I just— I didn’t know it would feel like this.”
“How does it feel?” Eloise called, already three sips into her champagne.
Artemis laughed through tears. “Loud.”
Caliban nodded approvingly.
I brushed my thumb beneath her eye before a tear could fall. “I was afraid,” I admitted quietly.
Her gaze sharpened. “Of what?”
“Of not honoring you properly.”
The confession felt raw and clean at the same time.
She softened instantly. “You could never.”
The certainty in her voice did something permanent inside me.
Caliban cleared his throat gently. “If this becomes excessively intimate, we will require additional champagne.”
Eloise smacked his arm lightly. “Let them have a moment.”
I leaned down and pressed my forehead to hers.
“You are ridiculous,” she whispered.
“Ridiculously devoted.”
“Obsessed.”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
Dr. Artemis Ripley.
Mine.
Caliban cleared his throat.
The room didn’t quiet—this was still a pub—but our small orbit did.
“Dr. Artemis Ripley,” he began, voice smooth and resonant enough to carry without force. “It has been my privilege to observe your mind in operation.”
Artemis blushed.
“You possess an intellect that does not simply absorb information,” he continued. “It interrogates it, corrects it, and occasionally humiliates it.”
She chuckled, and Eloise hooted.
“You have demonstrated courage not merely in battle, though you have shown that as well—but in persistence. In returning to work that once rejected you. In submitting yourself to scrutiny and not retreating.”
Her fingers tightened around mine.
“You are formidable,” Caliban finished, gaze steady on her. “In scholarship. In temperament. In loyalty. And in love. It is an honor to know you.”
