Page 84 of Cinderella-ish
How is he even here rightnow?
“Can I please come in?” he asks, his voice light, and his blue eyes, that glisten, are fixed onmine.
I manage to nod and step aside as he walksin.
He reaches for my hand, and I pull it away. “Please don’t touch me,Antonio.”
He steps back, holding one hand up and one behind his back. “Okay. I won’t touch you. But please let meexplain.”
“Nothing you say can change what I heard on that news report. You need to get married, and guess who was the naive one you reeled in to make sure that happens? Me. But it doesn’t matter. I’m leaving for Francetomorrow.”
His shoulders sink. “What? France? Daniella. Baby,you—”
“Yep,” I interrupt, taking a sip of wine. “Paris. To work with LaurenBlake.”
He shakes his head. “I’ll come withyou.”
Wait.What?
That’sunexpected.
“I beg your pardon?” I say, now sitting on the edge of the bed, losing my ability to stand without my kneesshaking.
“It sounds like a wonderful opportunity for you. So I’ll come with you. I can still operateCraveMeremotely. Heck, we can even open up our first boutiquethere.”
Wecan open upourfirst boutique? Does he not remember I’m angry withhim?
He moves his hand from behind his back. Holding up my pink shoes by their strap, he approaches me slowly, cautiously. “I once heard a story in which a man confirms his true love by slipping the shoe she left behind, on her dainty foot. If it fit perfectly then she was indeed his match…or something likethat.”
I feel my eyes well up with tears. “Is that supposed to be the story of Cinderella rescued by PrinceCharming?”
He gives a cautious smile. “Kind of,” he says, inching closer myway.
“Well, I thought you were my Prince Charming, but you proved he does notexist.”
“Did I? I’m here now, aren’t I?” His browslift.
I swallow the painful lump in my throat as he gets closer, now on one knee, kneeling as he lifts myfoot.
“And the fact that you need to getmarried?”
He scoffs. “Daniella, baby. You’re right. I do need to marry—you—but, God knows, I don’t need to marry you for any reason other than the fact I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t need the money. I’ve got that on my own and we can even marryaftermy 30th birthday. And I’d give up everything…for you, which is why I’m even willing to go to Paris, together.” He slips one shoe on my foot, and I sink my face in my hands, the tears coming harder than I expected themto.
Antonio lifts my chin and leans in close, his lips gently touching mine. “Just as I thought, baby, the shoe is a perfect fit. I’m Prince Charming-ish. And you’re Cinderella-ish.” His lips swoop over mine and wekiss.
Tender. Long.Passionate.
I’m melting inside and I can’t help but think…this moment—this exact, fucking moment—is precisely what fairy tales are madeof.
Our lips part momentarily and, like music to my ears, Antonio mutters, “This, Daniella my love, is where we begin our very own happily everafter.
