Page 76 of Confusing Cade
“Together,” I whispered, my voice trembling with that joy, thick with the relief of finally surrendering to what I'd always known deep down. “Let’s build more than this place, Cade. Let’s build our life.”
The crowd’s cheers surged anew, a roaring crescendo that vibrated through the stage as we stepped to the ribbon. Our hands clasped around the oversized scissors, fingers intertwined in a grip that spoke of unbreakable unity. The snip echoed sharply, slicing through the air like a final release, the ribbon falling in graceful arcs like a curtain drawn back on our past mistakes. The Promenade gleamed around us, its sleek lines and vibrant gardens a living mirror of the new beginning we’d seized, rising from the ruins of old grievances into something beautiful and resilient. As we stood there, wrapped in each other amid the thunderous applause, the world celebrating what we'd reclaimed, I knew this was it.
Our love. Our hope. Our forever.
EPILOGUE
FOUR MONTHS LATER
CADE
I woke up to the soft, golden light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our suite at the Carlyle Hotel in Paris. It was four months after the grand opening of the Palm Beach Promenade, and here we were, tangled in crisp white sheets on the king-sized bed. Bella was still asleep beside me, her breathing steady and soft, one arm draped across my chest like she owned the place—which, let's be honest, in many ways, she did. Owned me, heart and soul. Her hair was a wild cascade of waves on the pillow, and there was this tiny freckle on her shoulder I couldn't stop staring at.God, she’s beautiful.
I'd arranged for room service the night before, a surprise breakfast because... why not? Paris was made for gestures like that. Right on time, a discreet knock sounded at the door. I slipped out of bed, careful not to jostle her, and pulled on a robe.
The waiter, all starched uniform and polite nods, wheeled in a cart that smelled like heaven. Plates of fresh baked croissants flaking with butter, pain au chocolat oozing dark chocolate, a silver pot of steaming coffee, pitchers of fresh-squeezed orange juice and mimosa mix, a platter of ripe strawberries, cheeses, and charcuterie. He'd even added a bouquet of pink peonies, Bella’s favorite. I tipped him generously and closed the door with a soft thud before wheeling the cart over to the sitting areaby the window. The view was killer: the Eiffel Tower standing tall against a blue sky, the Seine glittering below like it was showing off to anyone up this early to notice.
Bella stirred as the aroma wafted over. She mumbled something incoherent, her eyes fluttering open. "Cade? What time is it?"
"Just past eight," I said, flashing a grin as I poured steaming coffee into her favorite mug. "Surprise. Figured we’d kick off the day like Parisian royalty."
She propped herself up, blinking sleep from her eyes, and surveyed the spread. "Oh my God, you didn’t. This is unreal. Croissants in Paris? Cliché, but I’m totally here for it.”
I chuckled and slid the mug toward her, the rich aroma curling between us. "Cliché’s my specialty. Dig in before these pastries stage a revolution."
She threw off the covers and joined me at the table, still in her silk slip, looking effortlessly gorgeous. We dug in, the pastries crumbling perfectly, the coffee rich and strong. As we ate, the conversation flowed easily, like it always did now. No more of that awkward, confusing dance we'd done at the beginning.
"So, what’s your favorite part of our trip so far?" I asked, smearing apricot jam across a crusty slice of baguette.
“I don’t know.” She leaned back in her chair, pursing her lips as if mentally replaying the past few days with theatrical deliberation. "It’s been unreal. Beyond anything I pictured. That dinner cruise on the Seine? The way the water caught the city lights was something else. And the Eiffel Tower at dusk—overhyped, maybe, but it hit me hard. Like we’ve crammed a decade into a week."
I nodded, my grin widening as I reached for her hand across the table. Our fingers locked with easy familiarity. "Yeah, it’sbeen damn near flawless. No inbox pings, no chaos. Just you and me."
Bella’s phone buzzed softly on the table, breaking the moment. She glanced at the screen, her eyes lighting up as she swiped to open an email. "Hold that thought," she said, her voice tinged with excitement. "I’ve got news. Big news."
I arched a brow, leaning in. "Oh? Lay it on me."
She scanned the email, her smile growing wider with every word. "Remember that pitch I gave the other day while you were passed out, recovering from jet lag? To Maison de la Soie, the design house?"
I smirked. "Vividly. You were pacing the hotel room like a boxer before a fight."
She laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Well, they loved the new collection. The one with the swirling abstracts and the metallic threads.” She paused and her eyes brightened a little more. “They're offering me a collaboration. Exclusive line for their fall runway show.”
“Are you serious?”
