Chapter 88 In This Garden of Love
Olivia: POV
"Olivia Parker, will you marry me? For real this time?"
Blake knelt before me, his blue eyes shining with vulnerability as he held out the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. Pink diamonds arranged in a pattern that echoed the thousands of roses surrounding us caught the golden afternoon light, sending prisms of color dancing across his face.
For a moment, I just stared at him, tears streaming down my cheeks. This man who had created an entire garden for me, who remembered a passing comment I'd made when we were twelve, who had loved me silently for years—was asking me to choose him.
I took a shaky breath and tried to compose my face into something serious. "I don't know, Blake. This seems awfully sudden." I gestured around at the rose paradise. "I mean, we've only been married for a short time, right? And now you want to do it again?"
The flash of panic in his eyes was almost comical. His confident posture faltered slightly, and I couldn't maintain my charade any longer.
"I'm kidding," I said quickly, reaching for his hand. I tugged him upward, pulling him to his feet as he looked at me with bewildered eyes. I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Of course I'll marry you. For real this time."
Relief washed over his face, followed immediately by joy so pure it made my chest ache. He stood, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me off my feet in a spinning embrace.
"Don't scare me like that," he murmured against my hair. "I thought I'd completely misread everything."
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in months. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Your face was priceless."
Blake set me down carefully, then took the engagement ring from the box. "May I?"
I nodded, holding out my left hand. He slipped the ring onto my finger, where it nestled perfectly against the simple band we'd gotten at the courthouse.
"It's beautiful," I whispered, admiring how the pink diamonds caught the light. "How did you find something that matches these roses so perfectly?"
"I didn't," Blake said, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. "I bred these roses first, creating this entire garden, and then had the ring custom-made to match them perfectly. The jeweler used actual petals from these roses to capture the exact shade for the pink diamonds."
My eyes widened. "You created an entire rose variety just for this proposal?"
He nodded, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "The Olivia Rose. Beautiful, resilient, and unlike anything else in the world."
Before I could respond, a shower of rose petals suddenly rained down on us. I looked up in surprise to see several of Blake's employees standing at the edge of the gazebo, tossing petals and cheering.
"Congratulations, boss!" Marco called out, grinning widely. "She said yes!"
Blake laughed, his arm tightening around my waist. "Was there ever any doubt?"
"Plenty," I muttered under my breath, but I was smiling too.
As the employees continued their impromptu celebration, throwing petals and popping what appeared to be alcohol-free champagne, I leaned into Blake's side.
"So, what happens now?" I asked quietly. "We're already legally married."
Blake turned to face me, his expression suddenly serious. "Now we plan the wedding you deserve. Something beautiful, meaningful. A ceremony where you can wear a white dress and walk down an aisle, where our friends and family can be there to celebrate with us."
At the mention of a white dress, my hand instinctively went to my stomach. Though still mostly flat, I knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.
"I'll be showing by then," I said, voicing my concern. "I won't look like a typical bride."
Blake's hand covered mine on my belly, his touch warm and reassuring. "You'll be the most beautiful bride in the world, Olivia. Pregnancy looks incredible on you—you're literally glowing."
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help smiling. "That's sweat, Blake. It's called pregnancy sweat."
He laughed, then leaned down to kiss me again. "Whatever it is, you're stunning. And we can have the wedding as soon as you want. Next month, next week—hell, tomorrow if you'd prefer. We can have a dress custom-made that will make you look and feel amazing."
The genuine admiration in his eyes made my throat tighten with emotion. No one had ever looked at me the way Blake did—like I was precious and beautiful and perfect, just as I was.
"I'd like that," I admitted. "A real wedding. Something small but special."
"Then that's what we'll do," he promised, pressing his forehead to mine. "Leave all the planning to me. You just focus on growing our baby and running your empire."
I laughed at his description of Radiance. "Hardly an empire."
"Not yet," he said with confidence. "But it will be."
As the celebration around us began to wind down, Blake took my hand and led me through the rose garden. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the paths and turning the pink roses to a deep magenta.
"I can't believe you did all this," I said, gesturing at the thousands of roses. "It must have taken months."
He admitted. "I started planning it after our night at Victoria's bar, actually. Even before I knew about the baby."
I stopped walking, turning to face him. "Really? That long ago?"
He nodded, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. "I told you, Olivia. I've wanted this—wanted you—for years. That night just gave me hope that maybe you might want me too."
The vulnerability in his admission made my heart clench. I reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips.
"I do want you," I said softly. "I think maybe I always have, but I was too stubborn or scared to admit it. Even to myself."
Blake turned his head, pressing a kiss to my palm. "Better late than never."
We continued walking, his arm around my waist, my head resting against his shoulder. The garden was peaceful in the fading light, the scent of roses heavy in the air.
"So, about the wedding," Blake said after a comfortable silence. "I was thinking we could have it here, in the garden. Maybe at sunset, with just our closest friends and family."
I nodded, already picturing it. "That sounds perfect."
"I'll handle all the details," he continued. "The flowers, the food, the music—everything. You just need to show up for the dress fittings and the photography session."
"Photography session?" I echoed.
"Pre-wedding photos," he explained. "I thought we could take some here, among the roses, to commemorate the proposal. And maybe some at your parents' house, for the family connection."
I smiled at his thoroughness. "You've really thought of everything."
"I want it to be perfect for you," he said simply. "You deserve nothing less."
As we reached the edge of the garden, I turned for one last look at the sea of pink roses. The sight was breathtaking—thousands of blooms stretching as far as I could see, all created because a boy had listened to a little girl talk about roses nearly twenty years ago.
"Thank you," I whispered, squeezing his hand. "Not just for this, but for... everything. For waiting, for loving me even when I didn't see it, for being there when I needed someone."
Blake lifted our joined hands, kissing my knuckles just above where my new engagement ring sparkled in the dying light.
"Always," he promised. "I'll always be here, Olivia. That's what this ring means—not that you belong to me, but that I belong to you. Completely and forever."