CHAPTER 222: THE SYMPHONY OF US II

My sweet bunny.

And the dam broke within me. A single, hot tear escaped and traced a path through my cheek. Then another. I brought a trembling hand to my mouth, the bouquet of peonies crushed gently against my chest. The scent, once a comfort, now felt like the very essence of this overwhelming, beautiful moment.

For a moment, I thought it couldn’t possibly get grander.

And then the air shifted.

Bubbles and butterflies rose from the glowing heart of the pool, a silent, shimmering explosion. Thousands of iridescent bubbles drifted upwards, catching the candlelight and the glimmer of the fairy lights, each one a tiny, floating jewel. And among them, a living kaleidoscope of butterflies, their wings painted in blush and ivory, fluttered into the cool night air. They danced in the surreal space between the water and the stars, a breathtaking, impossible spectacle.

A choked sob escaped my lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated shock. My knees felt weak, and I clutched the peonies to my chest like a lifeline, their soft petals a fragile anchor in this overwhelming sea of emotion. The orchestra’s melody swelled, rising to meet the silent crescendo of the butterflies.

And then, through the shimmering curtain of bubbles and light, I saw him.

Adrien.

He stood on the opposite side of the pool’s heart, impeccably dressed in a black tuxedo that made him look like a prince from the very storybooks this night was torn from. His hair was perfectly styled, but it was his face, his eyes, that captured me. They were fixed on me, and in their depths, I saw a universe of hope, adoration, and a touch of raw nerves that made this fantastical display feel profoundly real.

He didn’t speak. He simply began to walk, following the curve of the heart-shaped pool on a path I hadn’t noticed before, one made of smooth white stones that glowed faintly, as if absorbing the light from the candles. The butterflies seemed to part for him, a silent, fluttering honor guard. The music followed his steps, each note a beat of my own frantic heart.

When he finally stood before me, towering over me, the world seemed to shrink until it was only the two of us, surrounded by a symphony of light and sound and impossible beauty. Then he folded me into his arms, hugging me.

The bouquet trembled in my grip as his warmth swallowed me, his chin brushing the crown of my head, his arms locking me tight to his chest.

His embrace was an anchor in a swirling sea of unreality. The crisp, expensive fabric of his tuxedo was solid beneath my palms, and his familiar scent—a warm mix of sandalwood and something uniquely his—cut through the heady perfume of the garden, grounding me. I could feel the steady, powerful beat of his heart against my cheek, a rhythm that seemed to calm the frantic fluttering in my own chest.

For a moment, with my face buried in his chest, the orchestra, the lights, and the floating messages on the water all faded into a distant, beautiful hum. There was only this: the strength of his arms, the sound of his heart, and the overwhelming feeling of being utterly cherished.

He pulled back slowly, just enough to frame my face in his hands. His thumbs were gentle as they brushed away the tear tracks on my cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm honey, held an intensity that stole the breath from my lungs. They searched mine, full of a love so profound it was almost tangible.

"Tears, little bird?" he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble. A small, tender smile touched his lips.

A hiccupping laugh escaped me, a sound caught between a sob and a giggle. "I tried so hard not to," I whispered, my voice thick. "I didn’t want to ruin my makeup."

His smile widened. "You could never be anything less than perfect to me." He gestured with a slight nod to the breathtaking scene around us. "I know this is... a lot. I just wanted to create a moment as beautiful as the woman who changed my entire world. Every single flower, every note of music, is just a clumsy attempt to show you what you mean to me."

He took one of my hands, the one not clutching the peonies, and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. His gaze never left mine.

"Isabella," he said, his tone growing serious, yet softer still. "From the day I met you, it was like the world shifted from black and white to the most brilliant color I could ever imagine. You taught me how to laugh from the belly, how to find joy in the smallest things, how to love without reservation. This..." he paused, his eyes glowing with unshed emotion, "this is the only heart I have, and it has been yours for a long, long time."

"I know this has been fast," he continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "I know I can be difficult. But the clarity I feel when I’m with you... it’s absolute. There is my life before you, and my life after you. And I have no intention of ever going back."

And then, with all the grace and purpose of a king, Adrien sank to one knee before me on the petal-strewn grass.

The music softened, dipping to a barely-there whisper of strings and piano. The butterflies seemed to settle on the surrounding flowers, their wings gently fanning the air. The world held its breath.

From his jacket pocket, he produced a small box unlike any I had ever seen—a blush-pink geode, its crystal edges catching the candlelight and throwing sparks of color across his hand. He clicked it open with a soft, satisfying sound, and the two halves fell away like the petals of a blossoming flower.

My gasp was sharp, audible in the quiet night. The phrase I’d been practicing, Adrien, I’m pregnant, shattered into a million tiny, useless pieces. It was gone, obliterated by the sight before me.

Nestled on a bed of miniature, shimmering quartz crystals was a ring that was not merely a piece of jewelry, but a work of art: rose gold, sculpted into a delicate, twisting vine. Tiny, dew-drop diamonds were scattered along its length, catching the candlelight and sparkling with every tremor of his hand. And at its center, cradled by two tiny golden leaves, was not a traditional diamond, but a flawless, pear-shaped pink diamond. It glowed with a soft, internal fire, the exact shade of the peonies I was crushing against my heart. It was the most exquisitely beautiful thing I had ever seen.

My breath caught in a choked gasp, a sound swallowed by the vast, beautiful night. The magnificent bouquet of peonies, my fragile shield against this emotional onslaught, finally slipped from my nerveless fingers, scattering its petals at my feet to join the ones already carpeting the ground. My world had narrowed to two points of focus: the impossible, radiant star offered in the geode box, and the hopeful, vulnerable eyes of the man kneeling before me.

The orchestra held a single, shimmering note, a thread of sound so fine it felt like it could snap.

"Like the swan, I vow to stay by your side for life."

He took a deep breath, his fingers tightening slightly around the geode box.

"Like the flamingo, I promise to keep our love vibrant and full of joy."

"Like the doves, I vow to come home to you—always."

"Like the flowers that surround us, I promise to tend to our love, to nourish it, so that it may blossom more brilliantly with each passing year."

"Like the melody playing," Adrien continued in a rich, steady baritone, "I promise to fill our life with harmony, with laughter, and with a love that only grows richer and more complex with every passing moment we share.

He took another breath.

"And like the light that glows within this water, within this night... I promise to be the flame that never dims for you, the one who will stand by you in darkness and in brilliance." He paused, and in that pause, the world seemed to exhale.

"Isabella Miller," he said, his voice clear and unwavering despite the emotion that thickened it. "You are my sunrise and my stars, my greatest adventure and my safest harbor. Will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?"

The orchestra swelled again, a triumphant crescendo that seemed to lift the very air around us. My vision blurred completely, Tears were flowing freely now, hot and cleansing, but they didn’t matter. My body moved before my mind could catch up—I nodded, my head shaking with the sheer force of it, my voice breaking free in a ragged cry.

"Yes," I finally whispered, the word a ragged puff of air. Seeing the wave of pure, unadulterated relief and joy that washed over his face gave me strength. "Yes," I said again, my voice stronger, clearer, filled with a certainty I had never known. "Oh, Adrien, yes. A thousand times, yes."

A radiant, relieved smile broke across his face. With a hand that trembled just slightly, he took the ring from its crystal nest and slid it onto my finger. It was a perfect fit, cool against my skin, a beautiful, tangible weight that promised forever.

I let out a sobbing laugh as his hands cupped my face again, pulling me into him. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm and unsteady. "Mine," he whispered, voice rough with emotion.

"Yours," I choked out, before his lips finally claimed mine —hungry, reverent, sealing the vow not with a kiss of passion, but one of permanence, of his love, his relief, and his joy pouring directly into my soul.

At that exact moment, as if on cue, the fairy lights woven through the gardens brightened, casting us in a brilliant golden halo, and from somewhere above, a silent, shimmering cascade of gold dust began to fall, catching the light like a thousand tiny suns, blanketing our new beginning in pure magic.

As the last golden flecks drifted down around us, I buried my face into his chest, his warmth wrapping around me like a vow all on its own. The words I had been rehearsing for days—Adrien, I’m pregnant—hovered at the edge of my lips. For a moment, they pressed against my teeth, desperate to be freed.

But then I looked at him. Really looked. His chest still heaving from everything he had just poured into this night. He had given me forever, knelt before me, handed me his heart in front of a universe he’d built just for us.

What more could I possibly give him in return, right now, than my yes?

The secret fluttered quietly beneath my ribs, precious, unspoken. I pressed my palm to his chest, right over his heart, and smiled through my tears. Not tonight, I told myself. This will be my gift to him when I stand before him in white, when we’re husband and wife. What could be a greater wedding gift than the life we’ve created together? Besides, I haven’t taken a real pregnancy test.

I kissed him again, sealing both my answer and my secret, holding it close as the night carried us into forever.