Page 128 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
EPILOGUE
Ashlyn
Four months later...
Today was the day.
Dean leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Are you ready?”
“I think so. Is it weird that my stomach is flipping like crazy?”
A gentle smile filled his face. “Not at all.”
“What if it’s a disappointment?” I whispered.
He shifted back and forth looking uncomfortable for a moment. “What if it’s not?”
Dean had been incredibly supportive of my deepest wish to be here, at the Paris Pantheon, on this exact day of my parent’s engagement. I mentioned the date to him once, and two weeks ago, he’d surprised me with tickets so I wouldn’t miss another chance to commemorate my parent’s engagement in the place where it happened.
For a guy who once didn’t think he was boyfriend material, he was sure hitting it out of the park with this one.
I cuddled up against his side, laying my head in the crook of his arm. “You’re right. I’m overthinking this.”
He chuckled. The rumble of his laughter flowed through my body. “You? Never.”
I poked his side and tickled him. Maybe I did overthink things a tad too much.
I’d waited for this moment my entire life. I squeezed Dean’s hand tight, determined to hold back the avalanche of tears that wanted to escape. We stood at the top of the stairs in between two massive columns. It was easy to feel small next to them.
“Do you think they stood here like we are?” I whispered my voice already choked with emotion.
He tightened his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. “I’d like to think so.”
“He’d always planned to propose to her in Paris.”
Dean stayed silent. I’d probably told him this story as many times as Dad had told me.
“Did I tell you he’d hired a photographer to meet them by the Eiffel Tower the next day? He’d planned the proposal down to the second.” Already my mind drew a picture of it all. The proposal that never happened. “A string quartet was to play in the background, and pink, red, and white rose petals would be scattered on the ground prior to their arrival. He said roses were her favorite.” My parents’ engagement had been my favorite bedtime story.
Dean’s eyes softened as they met mine. “You did, but I’d love to hear it again.”
“I’d asked him once why he hadn’t waited for that perfect moment and instead asked her to marry him on the rooftop of the Pantheon. He said when they finally got to the top my mother grabbed him and hugged him tight. She’d been afraid of heights, but the view had taken her breath away. They’d kissed, and she’d whispered how this trip was a dream come true.” I pulled a picture out of my pocket. It was of Mom, leaning against one of the gigantic columns on the rooftop of the Pantheon under the dome. I held it out for Dean to see.
“She’s beautiful. You look so much like her.” He turned me to face him.
