Page 94 of Under Southern Stars
I take a generous swallow of wine, buying time. “It’s…in a beautiful setting. The vineyard’s been in the family for generations.”
“Jack McKenzie, man of mystery,” she says, but her smile is fond. “You always do this, you know. Deflect questions about your background.”
“Do I?”
“Mmhmm.” She traces the rim of her wineglass. “I’ve noticed. You’ll tell me about your sisters, your childhood adventures, but whenever I ask about what your family actually does, you get vague. ‘Family business.’ ‘Wine industry.’ Never specifics.”
My heart rate picks up. “I guess I’m just…used to keeping my worlds separate.”
Her eyes meet mine, searching. “And which world am I? The paramedic one, or the mysterious New Zealand one?”
“Both,” I say honestly. “That’s what makes you special, Sophia. I want you in every part of my life.”
She smiles, the candlelight catching in her eyes. “Good answer, McKenzie.”
As the evening progresses, I can’t help but notice how naturally she fits into this setting. There is no discomfort, no awkwardness as the waiter describes complex dishes or the sommelier discusses wine pairings. She moves through theworld of fine dining with the same quiet confidence she shows in her ER—adaptable, intelligent, unintimidated. It only makes me fall deeper, even as it heightens my anxiety about tomorrow’s reveal.
“I ordered us each a different entrée,” I explain as the waiter sets down our meals. “Local venison for you, because you have to try it while you’re here. South Island salmon for me.”
“Sharing?” she asks, eyes twinkling.
“Of course,” I grin. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I reach across the table, taking her hand. “How about you? Any regrets so far about coming to New Zealand?”
“Are you kidding?” She looks at me incredulously. “Jack, this has been…I don’t even have words. Madison is happier than I’ve seen her in years. I’m actually relaxed—do you know how rare that is? And you…” She squeezes my hand. “You made this happen. Troy would have promised this trip and then canceled last minute because some cryptocurrency tanked.”
“Low bar,” I joke, though the comparison pleases me.
“No, it’s not just that,” she insists. “It’s you. The way you are with Madison. The way you listen. The way you…see me.” She takes a deep breath. “I haven’t had that in a long time. Maybe ever.”
The knot in my stomach tightens. She trusts me completely, and tomorrow I will show her just how much I’d kept from her.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, noticing my expression. “You got serious all of a sudden.”
“Just…how lucky I am,” I say, forcing a smile. “To have found you.”
Her expression softens. “Jack McKenzie, are you getting sentimental on me?”
“Maybe.” I refill our glasses. “Is that allowed?”
“I’ll permit it,” she says solemnly, though her eyes dance. “Just this once.”
We talk for hours, the wine flowing, the conversation wandering from Madison’s sudden rugby obsession to Sophia’s work stories to my childhood memories of Queenstown. I find myself sharing more than I’d planned—stories of summer hikes in the mountains, winter ski trips, the mischief my sisters and I would get into during harvest season.
Watching her laugh, seeing her truly relaxed and happy, I wish desperately that tomorrow doesn’t have to come. That we could stay here forever, just Sophia and Jack, uncomplicated and perfect. The weight of what I haven’t yet said presses heavily on my chest. If I don’t say it now, I might never have the chance.
As the restaurant begins to empty, I pay the bill and we step out into the crisp night air. The stars blaze above us, the Southern Cross clearly visible in the dark sky.
“Look,” I say, pointing upward. “That constellation there—that’s the Southern Cross. It’s on our flag. Only visible in the Southern Hemisphere.”
Sophia tilts her head back, her breath fogging in the cool air. “It’s beautiful. Everything here is beautiful.”
The soft lap of water against the lakeshore underscores the quiet between us, stars reflected like scattered diamonds on the surface. Sophia shivers slightly in the cool night air, and instinctively I wrap my arm tighter around her, pulling her close as we gaze into the heavens. “Cold?”
“A little,” she admits, leaning back against me. “But I don’t want to go in yet. It’s too perfect out here.”
I turn her in my arms, cradling her face in my hands. “You’re perfect,” I whisper, then kiss her under the vast southern sky.
