Lib Novel Page 36
He fished the ring box out of his pocket, the reason he and Carol had arrived at Sunday dinner so late. Pia’s friend had told him that for both him and Pia to be as happy as could be—meaning with her family’s full blessing on their future—marriage would be needed.
Stopping at a jewelry store hadn’t even given him pause. It had only given him butterflies as he imagined Pia accepting.
“Jesus, you really are full of surprises. Are you kidding me, Romeo?”
He shook his head. “I’m all in. Are you?”
“Not sure,” she teased. “Let’s see the ring.”
Pia was surprisingly quiet as he slid the gleaming diamond on her finger and sealed that promise with a kiss.
She didn’t say yes. She didn’t make a joke. She just looked at him with a smile that said everything. Since touching her, spoiling her, was his favorite way of communicating, Matt kissed her again, slow and deep.
“Hey, Matt?” she said after he released her lips.
He couldn’t answer, he was so lost in her eyes.
“We’re going to be great together, aren’t we?”
He grinned. Pia had asked him the same question as they stood outside his flat in Paris. Matt offered the same answer he’d given then. An answer he felt in his soul.
“Pia, we’re going to be fucking fantastic together.”
Epilogue
Pia poured her husband a glass of his favorite red wine, some French vintage with a barely legible label, and, according to him, beautifully balanced tannins. Stopping at the fridge, she grabbed a sparkling water for herself.
She moved through their home, scenting the ocean on the soft breeze through the open windows. They hardly ever shut them. To Pia, the smell and sound of the sea outside signaled the life they’d built together. They’d been married on that beach nine months before, with only a handful of their closest friends and family to stand witness.
Her parents had not been pleased at the casual, outdoor venue or the unmistakable swell under Pia’s short, flirty wedding dress. They had also still showed up, and continued to show up, to what she and Matt had started affectionately calling the beach house.
They hosted Sunday dinners occasionally, though mostly the family continued to gather in her parents’ snug backyard at the two picnic tables shoved together and groaning with food.
She walked through the open patio wall, a smile breaking across her face as her three favorite sounds greeted her.
First, the crest and crash of the waves, like a steady heartbeat.
Second, her daughter. At six months old, Graciela was as vocal and bubbly as Pia herself. She seemed to have created her own baby language, happy shrieks and belly laughs that sometimes sounded like real questions demanding answers.
Third, Matt. More specifically, Matt with Gracie. He was unabashedly enamored with his daughter. Pia could hear his laugh from the patio. He’d developed a full-on giggle that only Gracie could get out of him. He was cooing to her in French, his sonorous voice reaching heights for which it shouldn’t be capable. When Pia rounded the corner of the patio, she spotted her two favorite people sitting together in the sand. Matt was clapping his daughter’s chubby hands together, then placing them on his lips. Every time, every single time, Graciela laughed so hard she started to tip over. Every time, like the perfect parent he was, Matt caught her.
She settled in next to them, flexing her toes in the warm sand and handing off his drink. Without asking, he popped open her sparkling water and nestled the can in next to her. He leaned over to kiss her belly. Pia loved how Matt loved big and easily and right away. They had just found out they were expecting again, and already the man was smitten.
It was the little things she loved about Matt, like opening the can and the nightly foot rubs. She loved the big things, too, like their home and the charity they had created together to support families in Los Angeles County.
She loved that one flight followed by one whirlwind night had led them right here. Right to each other, and a lifetime of leaps they just kept landing.