REINA
The inside of the limousine felt too quiet for how fast my heart was beating.
Soft leather seats. Dim golden lights running along the edges. The low hum of the engine beneath us as the car glided smoothly through the city. Everything about it scread luxury and calm.
I felt neither.
My hands rested in my lap, fingers twisting together before I forced them still. My purse laid on the space right beside , close enough that I could feel its presence like a weight.
Inside it was the gift.
The wristwatch.
The one Donico had helped pick.
A small, expensive, perfectly wrapped reminder of sothing I was trying not to think about today of all days.
Three years.
Three years of marriage.
Three years of Paolo choosing , loving , standing by even when I did not deserve it.
And here I was, sitting beside him with secrets that could destroy everything.
I swallowed and forced a breath.
"Are you going to tell where we’re going now?" I asked, turning slightly toward him.
Paolo smiled imdiately, that soft, familiar smile that always made his dimple show.
"No."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Not even a hint?"
"Not even a little one. Elisa warned not to spoil the surprise."
"That’s so unfair."
"You’ll survive it, I promise." He said with a soft smile.
I huffed quietly, leaning back into the seat, but I couldn’t stop the small smile that pulled at my lips.
He watched for a second longer, like he was morizing the expression.
"You look beautiful," he said softly.
My chest tightened.
I looked down at my dress automatically, smoothing my hands over the fabric even though there was nothing wrong with it.
"Thank you," I murmured.
He reached for my hand then, like it was the most natural thing in the world. His fingers slipped between mine, warm and steady, grounding.
"I an it," he added. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Happy."
The word hit harder than it should have.
Happy.
I forced a small laugh. "That’s because you won’t tell where we’re going. I’m curious. This is my curious look."
He shook his head, amused.
"Liar."
I glanced at him, heart stuttering.
He wasn’t accusing. Not really. There was no suspicion in his eyes. Just that quiet understanding he always seed to carry.
Still, I looked away first.
His thumb started brushing slowly over my knuckles, the sa absent, comforting motion he always did.
"I missed you," he said after a mont, voice softer now.
The words settled between us gently.
"I know you might not believe it," he continued, "but I need you to understand sothing."
I turned back to him.
His gaze was steady. Warm. Completely focused on .
"I don’t like being away from you," he said. "Not anymore. It doesn’t sit right with ."
Guilt twisted sharply in my chest.
"Paolo..."
"I an it," he went on. "Every hour I was gone, I kept thinking about you. Wondering if you were okay. If you were safe. If you needed and I wasn’t there."
My throat tightened.
I didn’t deserve this.
"I’m here now," he said quietly. "And I’m not going anywhere again unless I absolutely have to. I don’t want to give you any reason to doubt my love for you."
I squeezed his hand without thinking.
"I’m glad you’re here," I said.
And that part was true.
Painfully true.
He smiled at like I had just given him everything he needed.
"Good," he said.
The limousine slowed slightly, then turned.
I felt it before I saw anything.
The faint shift in motion. The subtle change in the air.
Paolo leaned closer, his shoulder brushing mine.
"We’re almost there."
My stomach fluttered.
"Paolo..."
"Relax," he murmured. "Trust ."
The car ca to a smooth stop.
Before I could say anything else, the door opened.
Cool air rushed in.
Paolo stepped out first, then turned back, holding out his hand for .
"Co on."
I placed my hand in his and let him guide out.
The sight in front of made my breath catch.
A yacht.
No.
Not just a yacht.
A floating dream.
Lights draped across its railings like stars brought down to the water. Soft music drifted through the air. The gentle sway of the ocean reflected every golden light back up, making everything shimr.
I turned to him slowly.
"Paolo..."
He looked almost nervous now, which surprised .
"You like it?"
"Like it?" I let out a soft breath. "It’s... it’s beautiful."
Relief softened his expression instantly.
"Good."
"Elisa did this?"
"She planned most of it," he admitted. "I just made sure everything worked perfectly in the end."
I shook my head, still taking it all in.
"It’s perfect."
He smiled and took my hand again, leading toward the yacht.
"Wait until you see the inside."
We stepped aboard together.
Everything was set.
A table for two near the edge, candles flickering softly in the night air. Rose petals scattered lightly across the floor. A quiet band playing sowhere nearby, just loud enough to fill the silence without overwhelming it.
It felt like sothing out of a dream.
Sothing I didn’t belong in.
Paolo pulled my chair out for , waiting until I sat before taking his own seat across from .
He didn’t look away.
Not even once.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded quickly. "Yes. I’m just... overwheld."
"Good overwheld or bad overwheld?"
"Good."
He smiled, satisfied with that answer.
Dinner ca and went in soft conversation.
Nothing heavy.
Nothing painful.
Just small things. mories. Laughter. The way he kept reaching for my hand across the table like he needed to remind himself I was really there.
At so point, the music shifted.
Slower now.
Softer.
Paolo stood and held out his hand.
"Dance with ."
My heart skipped.
"Right here?"
"Right here."
I hesitated for half a second.
Then I took his hand.
He pulled gently to my feet and into him, one hand settling at my waist, the other holding mine.
We moved slowly.
No rush.
Just the soft sway of the music and the ocean beneath us.
I rested my head lightly against his chest.
His heartbeat was steady.
Strong.
Real.
"I love you," he murmured above .
The words hit deeper than anything else that night.
Guilt rose fast and sharp, tightening around my ribs.
I closed my eyes briefly.
"I love you too," I whispered.
The lie tasted like truth.
Or maybe the truth just hurt more now.
We stayed like that for a long ti.
Dancing.
Holding each other.
Pretending nothing else existed.
Eventually, I pulled back slightly.
"I have sothing for you."
His brows lifted. "You didn’t have to get anything."
"I wanted to."
I stepped away and reached for my bag, my fingers brushing against the wrapped box inside.
For a second, I hesitated.
Then I took it out and handed it to him.
"Happy anniversary."
He looked at the gift, then at , sothing soft flickering across his face.
"You really didn’t have to."
"Just open it."
He did.
Carefully. Like it mattered.
The paper ca away slowly, revealing the box beneath.
He opened it.
The watch caught the light imdiately.
Simple. Elegant. Perfect.
For him.
For a mont, he just stared at it.
Then he looked up at .
"Reina..."
"Do you like it?" I asked quietly.
"I love it."
The sincerity in his voice made my chest ache.
"It’s perfect," he added.
He stood and stepped closer, slipping the watch onto his wrist without hesitation.
"It suits you," I said softly.
He smiled.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He reached for again, pulling back into him.
"Thank you," he murmured.
I nodded against his chest, unable to say anything else.
Because all I could think about was where that gift had co from.
And how much he didn’t know.
The music continued.
The lights shimred.
The night wrapped around us like nothing could touch it.
But inside , the guilt only grew heavier.
And no matter how perfect everything felt, I couldn’t shake the quiet, terrifying truth.
This mont was too beautiful to last.
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