The lump forms in my throat because I know exactly what he’s implying.
“What can I say,” he says to the strange look that’s forming on my face. “I guess I was made for it after all. What do you think? Will you be able to trust me enough to marry me?”
My feet hook around his waist in the water and I keep treading with my arms so we don’t sink together like a giant stone. “Implicitly. Always. For the rest of my life, Hugo.”
He kisses my cheeks and the tip of my nose. “Marry me, Laney. I never believed I was made for love and marriage, but I was made to be with you.”
Epilogue
Laney
The escape boat is docked and waiting.
As our wedding gift, Stella and Luke have funded a ‘round the world adventure. Finally, my love gets to be the captain of his own legitimate ship and not trying to escape from a life of crime.
“Auntie Laney, can we dance with Uncle Hugo?”
Cynthia, Cameron and three-year-old Caitlin look adorable in their shimmery flower girl dresses as they look up expectantly at my husband, who seems flabbergasted for a moment.
He glances from them to me and I say, “You see? You’re objectively cool. You’ve already got yourself a fan club.”
He then figures out what he’s supposed to do. And there it is, that old school charm that I remember from the first day we met. He bows deeply and holds out his hand to them.
“Me first,” says the youngest, shouldering her older sisters out of the way.
Hugo looks at them and says in a feigned scolding tone, “Now, now, ladies. No fighting over me, we can’t have that.”
The girls giggle and work out between the three of them which one should go first.
Poor Hugo. He spends the next hour switching from Cynthia to Cameron to Caitlin, although the youngest quickly grows bored and wanders off to find her parents. Soon, all the other little kids at the party take notice and form a line to dance with the groom.
Hugo’s got the ladies wrapped around his fingers and vice versa.
Watching him with the little kids, and seeing him dance with every single person who asks as well, I see glimpses of the old Hugo. Apart from the whole life of crime thing, it warms my heart to watch him be free and debonair.
By the time I cut in, I’m absolutely ravenous.
His wide, charming smile gives me all the feels.
I slip into his embrace just as my favorite song comes on and I kiss my favorite spot on his neck.
“Time to go, mister.”
He emits a low growl deep in his chest and I feel my knees go weak.
He scoops me up in his arms and carries me up the boat ramp, where our captain for the first leg of the journey awaits us. Hugo and I have many adventures planned on our journey. It turns out, he was telling the truth about his aging grandmother, who is the loveliest grandmother I could have hoped for.
When we arrive home to California—I do have a business to run—Hugo blindfolds me on my first day back to work and insists on walking me inside.
“I don’t like surprises, remember?”
He shushes me with a sweet kiss and eventually removes my blindfold.
Inside, hanging on the wall overlooking the main yoga studio, is a painting that wasn’t there before.
“Hugo. Where did this come from? What did you do?”
I’m not educated in fine art but I’m fairly certain that is a real Georgia O’Keeffe.