The Villa

Sometimes people don't—"
    "Maddy—"
    "Uh-uh." She shook her head. "She'll stay because she wants to. Maybe sometimes that's better."
     
    A few minutes later, he was walking Pilar home, across the edge of the vineyard. The moon was beginning its slow rise.
    "Really, David, I know the way home, and you shouldn't be out in the evening air."
    "I need the air and the exercise and a little time with you."
    "Maddy and Theo are going to need a lot of reassurance."
    "And how about you?"
    She laced her fingers with his. "I'm feeling considerably steadier. I didn't mean to fall apart at the airport. I swore I wouldn't."
    "You want the truth? I liked it. It's good for the ego for a man to have a woman cry over him."
    He brought their joined hands to his lips, kissed her knuckles as they stepped onto the garden path. "Remember that first night? I ran into you out here. Christ, you were gorgeous. And furious. Talking to yourself."
    "Sneaking a temper cigarette," she remembered. "And very embarrassed to have been caught at it by the new COO."
    "The new, fatally attractive COO."
    "Oh yes, that, too."
    He stopped, pulled her gently into an embrace. "I wanted to touch you that night. Now I can." He skimmed his fingers down her cheek. "I love you, Pilar."
    "David. I love you, too."
    "I called you from St. Mark's, talked to you while the music played and the light faded. Remember that?"
    "Of course I do. It was the night you were—"
    "Ssh." He laid a finger over her lips. "I hung up, and sat there thinking of you. And I knew." He took the box out of his pocket.
    She stepped back. Pressure dropped onto her chest, leaden weights of panic. "Oh, David. Wait."
    "Don't put me off. Don't be rational, don't be reasonable. Just marry me." He struggled a moment, then let out a frustrated laugh. "Can't open the damn box. Give me a hand, will you?"
    Starlight glittered on his hair, bright silver on deep gold. His eyes were dark, direct and full of love and amusement. As her breath jerked, she could smell a hint of night jasmine and early roses. All so perfect, she thought. So perfect it terrified her.
    "David, we've both been here before, both know it doesn't always work. You have young children who've already been hurt."
    "We haven't been here together, and we both know it takes two people who want to make it work. You won't hurt my kids, because as my odd and wonderful daughter just told me, you won't stay because you're supposed to, but because you want to. And that's better."
    Some of the weight lifted. "She said that?"
    "Yes. Theo, being a man of few words, just told me it was cool."
    Her eyes wanted to blur, but she blinked tears away. It was a time for clear sight. "You're going to buy him a car. He'd tell you anything you want to hear."
    "See why I love you? You've got him nailed."
    "David, I'm nearly fifty."
    He only smiled. "And?"
    "And I…" Suddenly it felt foolish. "I suppose I just had to say it one more time."
    "Okay, you're old. Got it."
    "Not that much older than—" She broke off this time, blowing out a breath when he laughed. "I can't think straight."
    "Good. Pilar, let me put it this way. Whatever your birth certificate says, whatever you've done or haven't done up to this moment, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, to share my family with you, and to share yours. So help me open this damn box."
    "I'll do it." She expected her fingers to tremble, but they didn't. The pressure in her chest was gone, and a lightness took its place. "It's beautiful." She counted the stones, understood the symbol. "It's perfect."
    He took it out of the box, slid it onto her finger. "That's what I thought."
     
    When Pilar went into the house, Eli was brewing tea in the kitchen. "How's David doing?"
    "Well, I think. Better than I'd imagined." She ran her thumb over the ring that felt so new, and so right, on her finger. "He just needs to rest."
    "Don't we all?" He sighed. "Your mother went up to her office. I'm worried about her, Pilar. She's barely eaten today."
    "I'll go up, take her some tea." She rubbed a hand over his back. "We'll all get through this, Eli."
    "I know it. I believe it, but I'm starting to wonder at the cost. She's a proud woman. This is damaging that part of her."
    Eli's worry wormed its way into Pilar as she carried the tray to her mother's office. It occurred to her that it was the second time in one evening she'd brought tea to someone who probably didn't want it.
    Still, it was a gesture meant to