Page 146 of Heart of The Night

She appeared in the doorway, her striking figure clad in a long purple dress that clung elegantly to her curves. The colour was an uncanny echo of the cocktail dress she had worn the night we first met – the night that had irrevocably altered the trajectory of my life, making it impossible to envision a future without her. It felt almost prophetic that she had chosen to wear purple today, as if the universe itself was nodding in approval of what I was about to do, affirming that everything was indeed aligning perfectly.

Draped over her shoulders was a light-beige coat, and under her arm she carried a newspaper, the same one that had caught my eye earlier.

‘Have you seen this?’ she asked, her eyes wide with excitement as she held up the newspaper for me to see.

I forced a smile, nodding. ‘Yes, I saw it,’ I said, though my focus was not on the newspaper. All I could see was her – the woman I hoped would soon be my fiancée – and all I could feel was the overwhelming desire to make this moment perfect.

‘It’s everywhere, Will! You did so well!’ She stepped closer, and I quickly picked up the cup containing the ring, my hand discreetly covering the text written on its side as I extended it to her.

‘Of course you brought me coffee,’ she murmured, a playful twist on her lips. As she reached out to take the cup, my heart lodged firmly in my throat.

This was it. The point of no return. No time to reconsider my approach or pivot to a grander gesture. What was set in motion had to follow through.

Her fingers brushed against mine as I reluctantly released the cup into her hold. Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion as she noted the unexpected lightness.

‘Is this some kind of joke?’ she asked, shaking the cup slightly, the sound of the ring tinkling inside. Her expression morphed from confusion to intrigue. ‘What’s this? Is it the key?’

I thought I might vomit. The room seemed to tilt around me, and my chest felt as though it were about to implode under the pressure. I could barely breathe, let alone think, as a tumultuous mix of dread and painful hope overwhelmed me. All I could do was stare, helplessly, as she reached for the lid and slowly lifted it.

The moment her eyes caught sight of what lay inside, I dropped to one knee. But before I could utter a single word, she gasped – a sound so sharp and full of surprise it seemed to cut through the room like a knife. In an instant reflex, she sprang back several feet, her eyes wide with shock as they shifted between my figure and the writing on the cup.

As I looked up at her from my kneeled position, a sense of foreboding washed over me. My chest tightened painfully; this reaction – her leaping back – did not bode well.

‘Cara,’ I began, my voice shaking uncontrollably, ‘from the moment we met, you’ve been the heart of my every day. Standing here, on the threshold of a new chapter, I can’t imagine a single day forward without you. You are my morning light and my evening star, the reason every day feels like a blessing.’ I swallowed hard. ‘Will you make me the happiest man alive and say you’ll marry me?’

She brought her hand to her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes as the newspaper slipped unnoticed to the floor beside her. The world around us paused on the brink of a response I feared to hear, my heart cracking under the strain.

‘Yes,’ she squeaked, her tears overflowing. ‘Yes!’

I released a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding, relief and euphoria surging through me as Cara whispered Yes yet again. The tension that had gripped my heart shattered, replaced by a warmth that spread through my entire body. I could hardly believe the word, the confirmation of our future together echoing in the air.

Without hesitation, Cara launched herself at me, her momentum bringing us both to the floor in a laughing heap. Her kisses landed all over my face, quick and joyous, as our laughter mingled with the soft sounds of the city beyond our windows. Seizing a moment, I gently took the cup from her, the ring still inside. With a trembling hand, I carefully retrieved the ring and, holding her gaze, slid it onto her finger.

No sooner had the ring settled on her finger than she pulled me close again, her lips meeting mine with renewed passion. We kissed, deeply and fervently, the rest of the world fading away. The intensity of our connection deepened, and we made love right there on the floor, gently and lovingly affirming our commitment.

Exhausted yet content, we lay there afterward, our bodies slack with the aftermath of passion. Cara traced idle circles around the scar on my bicep – a mark left by a past that was both distant and uncomfortably close. Her touch was thoughtful, almost questioning, as if each gentle stroke over the scar was a silent inquiry into the pain it had borne.

‘A lifetime with you doesn’t seem long enough,’ she said softly.

I turned to look at her, the significance of her words resonating in my core. ‘I wish I could have you forever,’ I murmured, cupping her pretty face in my hands. ‘But I’m grateful we existed at the same time, at least.’ It was a simple truth, laced with a bittersweet acceptance that we could only grasp the moments we were given.

Cara smiled, her eyes lighting up with both love and a hint of melancholy. She nestled closer, her head resting on my chest, as if trying to melt into me completely.

We lay there in silence for a while, the sunlight subtly shifting on the floor, its angles growing longer. Eventually, we rose, gathering our clothes in a quiet recognition of the world’s demands. Our movements were slow, unhurried, as if in reluctance to leave the moment behind.

By the window, overlooking the sprawling city, I drew Cara close, my arms wrapped around her waist. A profound sense of peace settled over me. Here, with Cara, was where I was meant to be.

She drew back a little, her eyes locking with mine. And there, in our shared gaze, was a tacit acknowledgement that no matter the challenges ahead, they were no longer just mine, or hers, but ours to face together.

The future – it was ours.

EPILOGUE

24 June 2024

CARA

The midsummer sun bore down relentlessly, turning the air into a tangible weight that pressed against my skin. Each breath felt like inhaling from an oven, the dry heat magnifying the scent of resinous pine and dusty earth as I trudged along the trail in the Gorges de la Restonica. Heat rippled off the sun-baked rocks, casting wavy mirages that blurred the rugged edges of the valley.

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