Page 129 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
“How do you always know the perfect thing to say?”
“I speak the truth. Tell me how he knew this was the right time.”
Dean knew this was my favorite part. Dad’s reaction to the memory made me love it even more. “Dad’s eyes would soften, and a faint grin would cross his lips every time we’d get to this part. He said it was Mom’s smile. That, in his words, it was more beautiful than the view, and his love for her was the stuff he’d only read about. It was pure magic. He knew he couldn’t wait another day.”
“He had no other choice, but to follow his heart.” Dean touched his forehead to mine.
“I love that you’re a mushy romantic now.”
He chuckled. “Only with you.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. “Your secret is safe with me.
“What did you love best about your parents’ proposal?” His heartbeat kicked up a few beats. That was funny. Was he looking for ideas? Now my pulse went into overdrive.
We’d only been together for six months including our fake relationship time. While I knew he was the one for me. I wasn’t sure he was at the marriage stage of our relationship yet.
“The surprise of it.” I answered without hesitation. “Mom had been commenting on the buildings she could see in the distance, not realizing he was down on one knee. The gasps from their fellow tour members gave her the first clue. At first, she thought my father had stopped to tie his shoe.” I giggled.
“That didn’t go how your father planned.” Dean laughed.
“Not at all. Dad said he was so nervous he’d begun to sweat through his shirt. The poor guy. When he finally got her attention, and she realized he was proposing, she cried. And of course, she said yes.” I’d yell out that last part in glee when my father got to the end.
All my life I’d collected pieces of my mother and father through pictures, Dad’s recollections, or physical items. I think it was my attempt to feel a connection to them. Now, I was about to follow in their footsteps, take the same tour they did, and end up where that magical moment had started their life together. I would be as close to them as I could ever be, and with the man I loved at my side.
“Hello. Are you here for the tour?” A voice called out. I noticed a man waving at us from the side entrance.
I glanced around us. We weren’t the only ones here, but he seemed to be directly speaking to us. “That’s weird. How does he know we want a tour?”
“Oh, I called ahead this afternoon just to be sure there was no pre-booking needed. I mentioned we were a couple and the approximate time we’d be here. They must’ve remembered.”
“Wow. That’s pretty impressive,” I said as we entered through the large doorway. “I’m going to take that as a good sign and try to relax.” It didn’t help that the rooftop was the last stop on the tour. Part of me wanted to rush right up to the dome, but the other part wanted to really experience the history my parents had absorbed that day.
The gentleman smiled at us. “Hello, my name is Remi. Thank you for joining our last tour of the evening. Let’s get started.”
I raised my hand, and he smiled warmly at me.
“Miss you don’t need to raise your hand. Please ask questions whenever you’d like.”
“Where is the rest of our group?”
He threw a puzzled look at Dean and then me.
Dean cleared his throat, “She wants to know if we need to wait for anyone else to join us before we begin.”
“Oh—” He smiled at me. “No, it appears the two of you are the only ones interested at this time.”
“How perfect is that,” I murmured happily and squeezed Dean’s arm.
I loved that we were getting the chance to walk at our own pace and didn’t have to worry about the distraction of other tourists. Today everything was falling into place. I was retracing my parents’ footsteps, and it felt like they were here with me.
“Perfect.” He responded and kissed the top of my head.
Once we stepped inside, I was glad we’d decided on a tour. There was so much to take in, from the elaborate marble floor and statues to the paintings of the saints and legendary moments of French history that took up entire walls. My gaze went to the center of the room, where a giant Foucault pendulum swung in the distance.
The history alone was fascinating. For a time, I let myself get wrapped up in our guide’s explanations and was able to forget about why we were there. Everywhere we looked were incredible displays of art representing important aspects of France’s narrative. We stopped to admire the 3-D rendering of the Pantheon just before the entrance to the mausoleum.
“Remi, do you think that we might have time to go down there later? A big part of the reason we’re here today is to get to the rooftop. Could we go there next?”
