“You wish, wifey.”
“This could be amusing,” Fiona says.
“You know it.” Charli beams at me.
I eat my gelato and watch the sun start to dip. The Italian sunsets are always breathtaking, and tonight’s had better not be any exception. “Hey, Charli? We got some mail today. Can I talk to you upstairs for a few minutes?”
She looks up quickly, putting her spoon back in the cup. “Right now? It’s almost sunset time.”
“Yeah, but we can stand by a window. Come with me a sec?” I step out of the tub and put our empty cups on the tray. “You can even bring your drink.” I hold out a towel insistently.
She looks like she wants to argue, but then gives in. “Sure, hubby. Why not.” She takes my hand and steps out of the tub, and I wrap her in a towel. I wrap another one around my own waist, grab her glass of prosecco, and then lead her toward the house.
We pass Vera and Crikey, who have moved on to arguing about drink mixers. Or something. It’s a little hard to say.
“It will be quieter upstairs,” I point out. “Come.”
Charli follows me up the grand staircase and into the master bedroom we’re sharing. She stops in the middle of the rug. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. But I need to wish you a happy half anniversary.”
Charli blinks. “Six months?”
“That’s right. Six months ago, yesterday, you won that medal in Vegas. Then we went out drinking and got married sometime early the next day.”
“Wow, you’re right,” she says. “Italy made me forget what day it is.”
“I forgot, too,” I admit. “But the lawyer didn’t forget, and this just arrived while you and Sylvie were out biking.” I hold up a FedEx envelope from New York. “New paperwork.”
“Six months,” she repeats. “Now we can get divorced without cause.”
“That’s right.”
Charli meets my eyes, and everything stops for a moment. We just take each other in. These have been some of the best months of my life. Our relationship has finally found its groove. I can’t even remember the last time we discussed our divorce.
But now Charli rips the strip off the envelope and pulls out a set of papers. She stares at the cover letter and doesn’t turn the pages. “Wow. That woman is super prompt. How much is she costing you?” She laughs awkwardly. “Do you want to do this right here?”
“Well, only if you want to,” I say carefully.
She looks down at the papers in her hand. “Up to you, hubby. On the one hand, why not? But on the other hand, why bring down our vacation vibe? It could, uh, wait a couple days?” She tips her green eyes up to mine.
I break out into a huge smile. If Charli went sprinting for a pen, I don’t know what I would have done. “I don’t see any reason to bring down our vacation vibe.”
Her shoulders relax. “Okay, good. It’s not just me. Missing the sunset to sign off on a divorce is kind of a bad call.”
“Right.” I cross to the French doors and open them. There’s a little balcony facing the lake. “Come on, then. This sunset isn’t going to watch itself.”
Charli drops the papers on the bed and follows me onto the balcony. The sun is a huge orange ball sinking toward the mountains in the distance. They’re turning more purple with each passing second.
“Oh look, another bottle of prosecco,” I say.
Charli glances down at the ice bucket I’d left out on a tiny, tile-topped table. “Where’d that come from?”
“Happy half anniversary, wifey.” I give the cork a twist and it pops into my hand. She holds out her glass, and I refill it. Then I pour an inch for myself into another glass.
“To, um, six really crazy months,” she says, her smile going shy.
“Six incredible months,” I echo. We touch glasses and take a sip. Then I loop an arm around her and watch the sunset for a moment.
The prosecco bursts over my tongue with its bright, acidic flare. And I know there’s only one way this moment could be better. I set down my glass on the little table, and I slowly sink down onto one knee.
Charli turns. She looks down at me, her eyes widening in surprise. “Neil?” she whispers.
“Charli,” I whisper back. Then I reach behind the ice bucket and retrieve the little velvet box holding my grandmother’s ring. I open it up. “I would like to know if you’d do me the honor of not divorcing me.”
She actually grabs the railing with her free hand, as if she needs the support. Then she tosses back her prosecco and drains it. “Jesus Christ, Neil. Way to stun a girl. Are you for real?” She’s blinking rapidly now.
“So real,” I say.
“Oh my God. Yes. I’m in if you are.” She bends over and grabs her knees, like they tell you to do if you feel faint.
I set the ring down and throw my arms around her. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” she repeats. “I just need a minute to get my head around this. You want to do this for real.”
“So much.” I kiss her neck. “And I swear I’m not under the influence this time.”
“I know,” she says, laughing. “You barely had a sip of prosecco.”
“That bikini is pretty potent, though. It could turn a guy’s head.”
She laughs and hugs me. We’re in an awkward crouch, so I grab the ring and pull her up to stand next to me. “I think it’s high time you put this back on. And not just ceremonially.”
She waves a hand in front of her face rapidly. “That ring still scares me. I’m afraid to lose your family heirloom. But that is my only reservation.”
“Put it on already.”
Sliding it onto her finger, she lets out a little squeal and then hugs me again. “This is super exciting, and I am so surprised I can barely form a sentence. I can’t believe that just happened.”
“Believe it.” I carefully get to my feet, bringing her along with me. “Why not now? There is nobody like you, wifey. I found the craziest, prettiest, most competitive one. And I’m keeping her.”
Then I lay a kiss on her. Because there’s a sunset and we’re in Italy and she’s wearing a bikini.
And she just said yes.
Charli kisses me like a woman who knows what she wants. But then she pulls back. “What would you have done if I had wanted to sign those divorce papers?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “But I had to show them to you. It’s only fair. Our marriage can’t be an accident. I still maintain that drunk Neil knew what he was doing.”
She presses her forehead against mine. “Drunk Charli doesn’t get enough credit, I guess. She sure can pick ’em.”
I kiss her on the forehead. “Hey, look quick. The sunset is almost over.”
She turns to admire the horizon. It’s deep purple now. “Life is short, and it happens fast,” she says.
I hug her to my side. “That’s right. You have to be ready to catch the beauty however it comes to you. Even if you’re drunk off your ass in Vegas.”
We fall silent as the last lip of the sun sinks beside Monte San Primo.