Chapter 261 FOR YOU, MY WIFE.

Chapter 261 FOR YOU, MY WIFE.
\~~~RAINA.

I was beginning to suspect Luciano had a shopping problem.

Not me but him because there was absolutely no reason for a man to walk into a store intending to buy one thing and somehow leave with seven bags.

Seven.

Of course, I counted them twice.

"You are staring at the bags again," Luciano said as we stepped out of another boutique.

"I am staring because they're multiplying."

"They are not multiplying."

"They were three this morning."

"They are seven now."

"Exactly."

Luciano glanced toward the employee carrying them behind us.

"They seem fine to me."

I narrowed my eyes and the employee immediately looked away.

We continued walking through the small coastal town attached to the resort.

It was beautiful. The streets were lined with flowers and little family-owned shops.

Tourists wandered around leisurely, music drifted from somewhere nearby, and for once again, there was nowhere to rush to.

Just sunlight and Luciano pretending he wasn't responsible for the growing mountain of shopping bags following us around.

"I still don't understand why you bought that hat."

His expression remained calm. "Because you liked it."

"I looked at it."

"You liked it."

"That is not even the same thing."

"It is."

"It isn't."

"It is."

I sighed.

Marriage was exhausting.

And I couldn’t believe it had taken me almost an entire year of marriage to figure that out.

Luciano and I had recently spent ten whole minutes arguing over whose side of the bed looked smoother.

Bed sheets.

We had argued about bed sheets.

Alessia had called us old-fashioned during yesterday’s video call.

I had disagreed.

Luciano, traitor that he was, had agreed with her immediately.

A few steps later, a sweet smell drifted through the air.

It was vanilla.

It smelled warm, sweet, and heavenly.

It was probably baked, and definitely cinnamon.

The smell drifted from a nearby bakery and immediately got my attention.

God. I wanted to eat everything there.

Every pastry, every cake, and every single thing behind that display window.

But before I could even think about dragging Luciano inside, my stomach chose that exact moment to betray me.

It twisted abruptly and I stopped walking.

Luciano noticed immediately.

His hand tightened around mine slightly as he glanced down at me.

“What?”

I frowned. “Nothing.”

His expression said he didn’t believe me for a second

The nausea passed as quickly as it arrived.

His eyes narrowed. "Baby."

"I am fine."

"You stopped."

"I was thinking."

"You don't make that face when you're thinking."

"What face?"

"That face."

I rolled my eyes. "It passed."

"What passed?"

I hesitated and then shrugged.

"My stomach felt weird for a second."

Luciano stared at me and looked toward the bakery.

Then back at me. "The ocean again?"

I laughed. "The ocean isn't even here."

"Maybe it followed us."

I smiled despite myself. "Very funny."

"I'm serious."

"You are not."

"No."

At least he was honest.

The feeling disappeared completely a few moments later, so we kept walking.

Still, I noticed Luciano glancing at me every few minutes afterward.

Like he was waiting or monitoring which was ridiculous.

I was fine.

A few hours later, we found ourselves sitting outside a small café overlooking the water.

Lunch had arrived and Luciano was reading through the menu despite already ordering.

I was watching people pass by.

Then I noticed the calendar hanging in the window behind him.

My eyes lingered on it briefly.

"Oh."

Luciano looked up immediately. "What?"

I pointed. "The date."

He turned slightly, looked at the calendar, and then back at me.

"What about it?"

I blinked. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"My birthday."

His expression didn't change. "Of course I know your birthday."

I leaned back slightly. "When is it?"

“Baby, I know every damn thing about you and you think your date of birth is the one thing I’d forget?”

“O… oh, right.”

I rolled my eyes.

Because, well…

He was Luciano.

The same man who had known I’d been swapped with Talia on our wedding day before half the room even realized something was wrong.

The same man who somehow noticed every little thing.

Unfortunately.

He seemed very pleased with himself and then he picked up his drink and took a casual sip.

“And the fact that your birthday is next week and our anniversary is literally a week after that?” He clicked his tongue dramatically. “Chef’s kiss, baby.”

I groaned.

“Now you’re showing off.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“No way.”

I stared at him.

Luciano stared right back then pointed at himself.

“I’m about to celebrate the love of my life twice in less than two weeks. You don’t think I’d show off?”

“Please don’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

“Luciano.”

“I would yell it to the world if I could.”

I dropped my head into my hand.

“You’re exaggerating.”

His eyes narrowed immediately.

“You wanna test that theory?”

I looked up. “What are you going to do?”

A slow grin appeared on his face.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“Luciano.”

He ignored me completely.

Then, before I could stop him, he stood from his chair.

My eyes widened.

“Lou!”

He picked up his spoon and lightly tapped it against his glass three times and the sound carried surprisingly far.

Nearby conversations began to die down and people started turning.

My stomach dropped. Absolutely not.

“Luciano.”

“Attention, please!”

“Oh my God.”

More people turned, a few smiled, others looked curious.

Meanwhile, I was actively considering diving into the ocean.

Luciano looked completely at ease like speaking in front of strangers was the most natural thing in the world.

Which, unfortunately, for him, it probably was.

“My wife’s birthday is next week!”

The entire restaurant fell silent for half a second.

Then people started smiling.

“And,” he continued proudly, pointing directly at me, “our first wedding anniversary is exactly one week after that.”

A few people laughed and someone clapped.

“Which means,” Luciano announced, “I get to celebrate the most beautiful woman in the world twice in less than two weeks.”

The clapping immediately grew louder.

I covered my face.

“As far as I’m concerned, she’s the most remarkable woman I’ve ever known.”

My breath caught.

Oh no.

He was serious.

“She’s brilliant,” he said.

“She’s stubborn.”

A few people laughed.

I did too.

Mostly because he wasn’t wrong.

“She argues with me constantly.”

More people laughed now.

Luciano smiled faintly.

“And somehow, she still makes every day of my life better.”

The smile on my face faded not because I wanted it to but because emotion suddenly lodged itself right in my throat.

His gaze softened. “I’ve met powerful people.”

The restaurant remained completely silent. “I’ve met intelligent people.”

His eyes never left mine. “I’ve met extraordinary people.”

Then quietly, “But I’ve never met anyone like her. My wife is the brightest thing in any room she walks into.”

He paused, “The brightest star in any sky. My sunshine.”

Someone let out a soft sigh.

Another person clapped, then another.

Luciano didn’t seem to notice or care because he was still looking at me.

“As far as I’m concerned,” he said softly, “every good thing in my life begins and ends with her.”

God.

My eyes burned and I hated that especially in public.

A smile touched his lips. “Happy birthday in advance, baby.”

The applause started immediately loud and genuine.

People cheered, someone whistled and a few women looked ready to cry.

Meanwhile, I sat there staring at him speechless.

Slowly, Luciano returned to his seat.

The applause continued for another few moments then eventually died down.

Neither of us spoke immediately and I simply stared.

As though he hadn’t just turned an entire restaurant into unwilling witnesses to a love confession.

Then finally,  “Still think I’m exaggerating?”

I laughed through the tears threatening to form.

And kicked him under the table.

“You’re so insane.”

“For you, my wife.”