“Well, that sort of present will have to wait until later. This is a present you’ll be able to open in front of our child.”
I blush fiercely, and he leans over to kiss me on top of my head while snickering lightly, as we make our way back out to the limo.
“You already got me a present.” I hold my extravagant ring up. “I think this is more than enough.”
He smiles his sweet, boyish grin, and then he shrugs.
“The ring is a symbol, not a gift. It means you’re going to make me happy for the rest of our lives together.”
“I think my heart just melted,” I murmur with wobbly knees, and he laughs lightly while shaking his head.
“Maybe I have turned to mush after all.”
He opens the door for me, letting me climb into the limo first to see a large, flat present on the far side. It’s wrapped in a crisp white with a red bow dressing it.
I turn to wait for him to buckle Trip in, and he giddily takes my side as soon as he’s done. I love the excitement in his eyes as he wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“I was going to give this to you the night of Trip’s party, but… well, I wanted you sober and happy—not drunk and pissed.”
I blush again, and then I lean into him.
“Well, I’m very sober and incredibly happy right now.”
His smile only grows, and then he nudges me to gesture for me to open the present. Taking a deep breath, I tear the corner of the paper, and then I shred the front side to reveal the single most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me.
“My mother’s painting,” I barely whisper as my tears start falling.
“This is just one of them. I bought them all for you. I’ve got them at the beach house.”
“You were the buyer at the benefit? I thought it was some skinny, pale guy,” I murmur in a nearly inaudible, hoarse tone as my eyes gape at the picture I never thought I’d see again.
“That skinny, pale guy is my secretary. I told you I hired a guy.”
***
Tag
I’ve never felt so good about anything in all my life. The expression on her face is worth more money than I could ever have in the bank.
It’s not just a painting about nature—it’s her mother’s brushstrokes that bring a new life to the scene. It’s not the trees that bring her a piece of home—it’s her mother’s touch.
The tears streaming down her face as she stares in awe in the painting she thought to have lost forever makes me feel alive. For once, I’m just happy. I’m not searching for anything at all—I’ve found it.
“I love you,” she releases in a breath, and then she gently puts the painting down before throwing her arms around my neck.
“I love you.”
I have to clear my throat before I shed my own tears and lose all of my masculinity. She smiles and leans into me, as we both stare at the painting.
“Well, this is officially the best first date ever.”
I laugh so hard it physically hurts. I love her humor, her spirit, and her ability to make me smile all the time.
“I’m glad. I worked really hard on this. I left with a girlfriend; I’ll return with a fiancée.”
She giggles a little, and I tilt my head curiously.
“What?”