Chapter 8 - THE CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL
Two months passed.
Winter settled over Chicago, covering the city in a thick, glittering blanket of white snow.
Life had found a new, beautiful rhythm. I moved back to my brownstone in Lincoln Park, but Luca was a constant, gentle presence. He didn't force his way into my life; he earned his place day by day. He brought coffee in the mornings, dropped the kids off at their private school, helped with math homework, and spent weekends with us in the kitchen making mess-filled, terrible pancakes.
On Christmas Eve, Luca invited my entire family—my parents, who had moved back from Denver, and my younger sister—along with Marcus Vance and a few close friends, to a quiet dinner at the Lake Forest estate.
The grand hall was magnificent. A twenty-foot Christmas tree stood by the stone fireplace, decorated with warm gold lights and handmade ornaments that Leo and Maya had painted themselves.
The children were scattered across the rug, tearing open presents with chaotic joy, while my parents sat by the fire sipping mulled wine, chatting happily with Luca.
At 9:00 PM, as snow began to fall heavily outside the tall windows, Luca stood up and cleared his throat.
The room fell quiet.
Luca walked over to where I was standing near the Christmas tree, holding a glass of champagne. He looked incredible in a dark velvet jacket, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse race just as fast as it had when we were twenty-five years old.
"Six years ago," Luca spoke, his voice filling the warm, quiet room, "I stood in a kitchen and made the foolish, tragic mistake of letting the most precious person in my life walk away. I thought success was measured in dollars, buildings, and headlines."
He looked around the room—at my parents, at Leo playing with a train set, at Maya hugging her new doll, and finally back to me.
"I was wrong," Luca said softly. "Success is sitting right here in this room."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, worn wooden box.
My breath caught in my throat. I recognized that box. It was the mahogany box my late grandfather had carved, the one I had left behind on the dresser five years ago.
Luca slowly sank down onto one knee on the Persian rug in front of the Christmas tree.
Leo and Maya stopped playing, their big dark eyes widening as they ran over to stand beside their father.
"Mommy," Leo whispered loudly, "is Daddy doing the thing from the movies?"
The whole room let out a soft laugh, but Luca never took his eyes off my face. He opened the wooden box.
Inside sat a breathtaking, simple ring—not a massive, ostentatious diamond designed to show off for photographers, but a delicate, vintage rose-gold band set with a brilliant, clear diamond, flanked by two tiny sapphires representing our twins.
"Nia," Luca said, his voice thick with profound, beautiful emotion. "You gave me a second chance I never deserved. You raised two incredible children and taught me how to be a real man. I don't need a empire, Nia. I just need you."
He took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he held up the ring.
"Nia Carter... will you marry me again? Will you let me spend the rest of my life making up for the years we lost?"
I looked down at the man who had humbled himself, destroyed his own ego, fought for my children, and loved me through the darkest shadows of my life.
Maya tugged on my dress. "Say yes, Mommy! Please!"
I wiped a happy tear from my cheek, letting out a soft, breathless laugh.
May you like
"Yes," I whispered, dropping to my knees in front of him. "Yes, Luca. A thousand times yes."
Luca let out a loud, triumphant laugh, slipping the ring onto my finger before pulling me into his arms and kissing me deeply under the glittering lights of the Christmas tree, while my family clapped and our children tackled us both into a massive, laughing pile on the floor.
