Chapter 148
Evelyn's POV
The drive to my apartment was quiet. Julian's hand rested on my thigh, thumb tracing absent patterns on my jeans. I watched the city lights blur past the windows and felt my heartbeat accelerate.
When we pulled up to my building, Julian killed the engine but didn't move to get out.
"Julian?" I prompted.
He turned to face me, and the intensity in his gray eyes made my breath catch.
"I love you," he said simply. "More than I've ever loved anyone or anything. You know that, right?"
"I know." My voice came out softer than intended. "I love you too."
"Good." He squeezed my hand once, then climbed out of the car.
I followed him into the building, up the elevator, down the familiar hallway to my door. My hands shook slightly as I unlocked it.
The apartment was dark. I reached for the light switch, but Julian caught my wrist.
"Wait," he said softly.
Then he let go, and I heard him moving in the darkness. A moment later, soft light bloomed—candles, dozens of them, scattered throughout the living room.
I stood frozen in the doorway, taking it in. The flickering candlelight painting shadows on the walls. The rose petals scattered across the floor. The bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket on the coffee table.
And Julian, standing in the center of it all, watching me with an expression that made my chest ache.
"Julian," I whispered. "What—"
"Come here," he said.
I crossed to him on unsteady legs. He took my hands in his, and I felt them trembling slightly. Julian Russell, who faced down warlords and negotiated with killers without flinching, was nervous.
"This month," he began, his voice low and intense. "This month has been the best of my life. Not because of where we went or what we did, but because of who I got to be with. Because for the first time since I was a kid, I felt... happy. Genuinely, completely happy."
He paused, his gray eyes searching mine.
"You make me want things I never let myself want before. A future. A home. Someone to come back to. And I know we've only been together a short time. I know there are people who'd say we're moving too fast, that we barely know each other."
His grip tightened on my hands.
"But those people don't understand what it's like to find your person. The one who sees all your darkness and doesn't flinch. The one who makes you want to be better while accepting exactly who you are. The one who feels like home."
My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear him over the rush of blood in my ears.
"Evelyn," Julian said, and then he was dropping to one knee.
The world seemed to tilt. Everything narrowed to this moment—the candlelight, the man kneeling before me, the small velvet box he pulled from his pocket.
"I don't want to wait," he continued, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't want to waste time being cautious or practical. I want to wake up every morning knowing you're mine. I want to give you the life you deserve—the peace, the safety, the love. I want to be your partner in everything, from the mundane to the magnificent."
He opened the box, and I saw the ring—a simple platinum band with a single diamond, elegant and understated. Perfect.
"Marry me," Julian said. Not a question. A plea. A promise. "Marry me, and let me spend the rest of my life proving you made the right choice."
The tears came before I could stop them. Hot and sudden, blurring my vision.
All month, I'd felt it building. This sense of inevitability. Like every date, every laugh, every quiet moment had been leading here. To this question I'd somehow known was coming.
But knowing and experiencing were different things.
I looked down at Julian—this man who'd seen me at my worst and loved me anyway. Who'd given me a month of normalcy and joy. Who'd shown me what it felt like to be cherished.
Who was offering me forever.
"Yes," I whispered. Then louder, my voice breaking. "Yes. Yes, of course yes."
Julian's face transformed. Pure joy, bright and unguarded. He slid the ring onto my finger with shaking hands, then stood and pulled me into a kiss that tasted like salt and promise.
"I love you," he murmured against my lips. "God, Evelyn, I love you so much."
"I love you too." I was crying openly now, not bothering to hide it. "I love you, and I want this. I want us. I want—"
I couldn't finish. The emotions were too big, too overwhelming. But Julian just held me tighter, like he could absorb all of it through touch alone.
"I know," he said. "I know, sweetheart. I've got you. I've always got you."
We stood like that for a long time, wrapped in each other while the candles burned down around us. The ring felt strange on my finger—foreign but right. A weight I'd carry gladly.
When we finally pulled apart, Julian's eyes were suspiciously bright.
"I have champagne," he said, his voice rough. "We should celebrate."
"Later." I tugged him toward the bedroom. "Right now, I want to celebrate differently."
His laugh was low and heated. "I like how you think, future Mrs. Russell."
The title sent a shiver through me. Not fear—anticipation. Excitement. The sense of standing on the edge of something new and terrifying and wonderful.
"Not yet," I corrected, pulling him down for another kiss. "But soon."
"Soon," Julian agreed. His hands slid under my shirt, warm and possessive. "Very soon. I'm not waiting any longer than I have to."
Neither was I.
We made love surrounded by candlelight, slow and reverent. This wasn't the desperate passion of our early days or the playful heat of our vacation. This was something else. A promise made flesh. A future beginning.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, the ring catching the dim light.
"When?" I asked quietly. "When do you want to do this?"
Julian's arms tightened around me. "Tomorrow, if you'd let me. But I know you'll want time to plan. So I'll be patient. Mostly."
I smiled against his chest. "What if I said tomorrow?"
He went still. "Are you serious?"
I thought about it. Really thought about it. About what I wanted versus what I thought I should want.
"I mean that." I touched his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "I've spent too much of my life waiting, Julian. Waiting for permission to live. Waiting for threats to pass. Waiting for some future that might never come. I don't want to wait anymore."
His kiss was fierce and claiming. When he pulled back, he was grinning.
"Then we won't," he said. "We'll do it your way. I'll make it happen."
"I know you will." I settled back against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palm. "You always do."
We fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other and promises.
The candles had burned out, but the ring on my finger caught the city lights filtering through the windows.