"Angie, I'm talking about you and me," he says softly and extends a hand to place on my palm. "I want us to buy this property, us to live here and us to take care of it."
For a couple of seconds, I only look at him, not breathing at all.
What did he just say?
Oh my God, despite how many times I repeat his words in my head, I still cannot believe it.
"But this place is huge," is the only thing I can say after a long pause. "We live in a small one-bedroom apartment now, and you want us to move here?"
"Angie." He takes a deep breath. "I want to have a big family someday, two or three kids, or as many as you can handle. And I want us to have a place where we can raise them. I think it's the right one. Of course, it needs a total renovation and…"
He stops when he sees that my eyes are getting wet.
I can perfectly imagine us here: waking up with the sunrise, cuddling in bed, cooking in that kitchen together, raising kids, going to the vinery around the corner behind that fence.
"Please don't cry," he says, and I swallow to hold back the tears. "I don't want to rush you; we'll have kids when you are ready, and we still need a huge renovation, so we'll move in here no earlier than six months, maybe more, but I would really like to live next to the vineyard like I used to when I was a kid and…"
"I agree," I exhale with a smile. I don't want to cry anymore. I'm thrilled. "I want the house, I want the vinery, I want the kids, but no less than four, and I want a bigger closet for my stuff because the one they have in the master bedroom is ridiculously small."
Ricardo laughs and moves closer, cupping my face with his palms.
"Do you know how incredibly amazing you are?" He leans in and our noses brush against each other. "You're smart, beautiful, kind, gorgeous… You're everything I always wanted. I love you, Angelica Sorreno, I love you with all of my heart."
The moment he presses his lips to mine is the moment I realize that our forever starts now.
Epilogue
Ricardo
Eighteen months later
I sit on the terrace of our new apartment in Notting Hill and drink my morning coffee. It's an espresso, so I'm trying hard not to drink it in one gulp. Even though I moved back to Tuscany almost two years ago, I’m still not used to small cups of coffee. Yesterday on my way to the office, I grabbed a triple americano from Starbucks and drank it before we arrived. That's how the fast-paced rhythm I used to live before affects me when I come back to this city. And I don't regret for a second that I don't live like that anymore.
My main office is still located in London, so I visit it quite often, but now I also have one more office in Florence. In Italy, we work mostly with European clients, while the UK office aims to develop internationally, primarily in Asia and North America.
Making Paul the CEO of my company was my best decision; he increased the profits of our company almost fifteen percent. It happened mostly because our new line of inexpensive wine sells better than I expected. We sell it now not only to the small Italian restaurants but also around Europe.
We've been in London for about a month already. We bought a small three-bedroom apartment in Notting Hill, the kind Angie always wanted. An old building with unique architecture, century-old history, and an unbelievable atmosphere is exactly what we were looking for.
We’ve spent a lot of time in this city lately, and not because of me, mostly because of Angie. She found so many clients here that she's now the one who's asking me to stay here for a little longer to finish her work. Her business is better than ever and she barely has time for anything else.
We got married right after I proposed. We planned to get married a little later, but Pierpaolo insisted we should do it earlier, to make Chiara come back to Tuscany for our wedding, as well as his wedding to Valentina. Chiara actually came back to Tuscany, but that's a long story.
It took almost a year to renovate the house with the vinery that we bought. That whole time, we lived in our small apartment, managing to somehow live between Florence and London while trying to direct the massive renovation project of our new home. My dad told me once that if we survived the renovation without fights, then this was a strong marriage. I believe it too.
Angie’s finally accepted the fact that she's the wife of a wealthy man, and now she accepts my gifts with pleasure. I, in turn, don’t buy anything expensive, like cars, without talking to her first. We’ve both changed, but these changes are for the better. I can't believe there was a time when I thought that love and compromises made me weak. This love made us both stronger.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…" Angie sings from behind me, and I turn my head to look at my beautiful wife, who's wearing nothing but a white silk bathrobe as she walks outside to congratulate me.
"Happy birthday, my love, happy birthday to you." She holds a small cake with one lit candle and extends it for me to blow out and make a wish.
Her voice, I could listen to it forever. But now I have to make a wish.
"I have everything I could ever dream of," I begin, smiling at her. "You know the only thing I want is for us to have a baby."
She smiles but doesn't say anything, biting her beautiful lips. She still gets a little shy each time I tell her how incredibly beautiful she is and that I want her to give me a baby.
We decided to wait until Angie is ready for pregnancy. I don't want to rush her, but that's really the only thing I miss in my life right now because I already have everything else: the love of my life as my wife, my parents are alive and healthy, and we finally live in our dream home. What else could I wish for?
I blow out the candle, and Angie puts the cake on the table next to my coffee. I try to grab her to put her on my lap, but she pulls away.
"Not yet, baby," she says playfully. "I have a present for you."
"Seriously? You bought something for me?" I laugh. "The best thing you could do is lose that bathrobe right now."
And when I say now, I mean this second. I don't need any presents. She's my best gift.
But she shakes her head.
"You have to listen to me, it's my birthday," I insist and pull the belt to untie the robe.
She puts her hand in her pocket instead and pulls out a long thin package, wrapped in dark red paper with a gold ribbon.
It looks like she bought me a watch.
Her robe opens, exposing some of her naked body, and I forget about the present.
"Open it," she insists, holding it in front of me, "and then I'll get naked."
I smile. It's the kind of deal I like.
I rip the package so quickly, as if it's on fire, and freeze.
It's not a watch.
I hold my breath.
My heart starts beating faster.
It's a test, a pregnancy test, which shows two stripes on it.
A positive pregnancy test.
For a couple of seconds, maybe more, I just stare at it, not saying a word, but then I force myself to look from the box to Angie.
"Is this for real?" I ask with a shaky voice.
My throat is dry, and I begin to sweat.
"Your birthday wishes have never come true so fast, right?" She smiles happily, enjoying my reaction.