Chapter 179
Chapter 179
A few seconds later, she sat up straight and rubbed her eyes. When she saw what was outside the window, every trace of sleep vanished.
An airport terminal.
She turned to Cornelius. He was leaning back in the driver's seat, watching her. No telling how long he'd been looking.
"We're here."
Arabella glanced at her phone in disbelief. 12:03 a.m.
She looked at the terminal again, then back at him, her tone caught between exasperation and amusement.
"You dragged me to an airport in the middle of the night. What exactly are you up to?"
Cornelius reached into his pocket and produced two plane tickets. He held them out to her.
Arabella took them and angled them toward the dim cabin light.
Destination: Paris.
Her fingers lingered on the tickets. She sat still for several seconds, then looked up at him. "When did you buy these?"
"Two days ago."
She hesitated. "What if I hadn't come?"
"But you did."
Arabella had no comeback for that. She looked down at the tickets, then up at the brightly lit terminal, and felt something unnameable surge through her chest.
She drew a deep breath, slipped the tickets into her pocket, unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out.
Cornelius followed, pulling a small, already-packed suitcase from the trunk. He locked the car and walked to her side.
Arabella eyed the suitcase. "You even packed luggage?"
"Mm-hmm."
"What about mine?"
"We'll buy what you need when we get there."
Arabella stared at him for two seconds. Then she laughed, asked nothing more, and turned toward the terminal.
Cornelius followed, rolling the suitcase behind him, his pace unhurried.
---
When the plane lifted off, Arabella pressed her forehead to the window and watched the city lights shrink below, then vanish beneath the clouds.
She pulled back, leaned into her seat, and glanced at Cornelius beside her.
His eyes were closed, breathing steady. He looked like he was already asleep.
She didn't disturb him. She closed her eyes too.
---
They landed in Paris at local noon. The airport was quiet. They collected their luggage, stepped through the terminal doors, and the crisp air hit them full in the face.
Arabella stood at the exit, pulling her coat tighter, gazing at the slate-blue sky and the low-hanging clouds in the distance. She breathed in deeply.
They didn't go to the hotel. They went straight to one place.
The tower.
Arabella stood in the plaza, tilting her head back to take in the iron structure emerging and disappearing in the mist. A rush of tangled emotions welled up inside her.
Something occurred to her. She reached into her bag and pulled out a photograph.
It was old—edges softened with wear—but the image was still clear.
Two young people standing in this exact spot, the same tower behind them. The light was golden. Both of them were smiling.
It was the photo of her and Cornelius from their last trip here. She still remembered how reluctant she'd felt when it was taken.
Looking at it now, though, it didn't seem so bad after all.
Cornelius was gazing up at the tower. He started to turn, about to ask if she was warm enough, when his eyes fell on the photograph in her hand.
He went completely still.
He stared at it for a long time, as if he couldn't trust what he was seeing. When he finally raised his head to look at her, his voice came out rough.
"I thought this was gone."
Arabella looked down at the two faces in the photo. Her voice was soft. "I found it in what survived the crash. I kept it. I never told you."
Cornelius said nothing. He had believed this memory had burned to ash along with everything else in that accident. It had never crossed his mind that it still existed.
That Arabella had kept it safe, all this time.
His eyes reddened—something almost no one ever saw.
Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.
His hold was fierce, as if loosening it even slightly might make her disappear. Arabella was folded against his chest, her face pressed into his shoulder.
The familiar scent of him filled her lungs. The hand holding the photograph slowly dropped to her side. Her other hand rose and settled gently against his back.
They stood there before the tower for a long time. Neither spoke. The fog drifted apart, and a pale midday sun broke through the clouds, falling warm across their shoulders.
"Okay. It's about time—let's go to the next place."
Arabella blinked a few times and wriggled free of his too-tight embrace.
She thought for a moment, then said, "Let's go to that beach."
Cornelius's gaze held steady on her face. His eyes softened as he nodded.
They'd been to that beach before—splashing each other in the shallows, sitting drenched and laughing on the sand.
---
Now they stood side by side on the same shore.
The night wind off the sea was stronger than memory promised. Waves broke against the sand in a steady, rhythmic pulse.
In the distance, the lighthouse beam swept across the water every few seconds, then dissolved into darkness.
Arabella bent down, slipped off her shoes, and stepped barefoot onto the sand—fine-grained and cold.
She walked to the water's edge. A wave rushed in, swirling around her ankles, then retreated.
She watched the sea wash over her feet, her mood light. She scooped up a handful of water and flung it at Cornelius.
He didn't dodge. The spray hit his pant legs. He looked down, then bent and scooped up a handful of his own, sending it right back.
Arabella laughed and stumbled back two steps, nearly tripping over a wave behind her. Cornelius caught her arm and steadied her. They stood face to face, catching their breath, both laughing.
Arabella bent down to play in the water again, her fingertips trailing across the surface, sending up a string of glittering droplets.
She straightened, shook the water from her hands, and was about to say something—when she realized Cornelius was standing right in front of her.
His expression was gentle, his gaze resting on her face. Then he dropped to one knee in the sand.
Arabella froze. Water dripped from her palms, slipping between her fingers.
The sea wind swept in, lifting the loose strands of hair from her forehead. She stood there, looking down at Cornelius kneeling on the beach, her mind utterly blank.
He reached into his pocket and drew out a ring box. He opened it.
Inside, a diamond caught the alternating glow of moonlight and lighthouse beam, shimmering with a warm, quiet radiance.
"Last time, I was bedridden. I never gave you a proper moment."
His voice was steady—not loud, partly scattered by the wind—but every word reached her with perfect clarity.
"Everything I owe you, I'm going to make up for."
Arabella looked down at him and met his eyes.
There was a thread of nervousness in them, but far more than that—a calm, unwavering certainty. The look of a man who had been waiting for this day for a very, very long time.