Chapter 13
1127words
"Absolutely essential," he insisted, his hands steady on my shoulders. "Just a few more steps."
The autumn air was crisp against my skin as he led me forward. We'd closed the café early—a rare occurrence—and Alexander had been mysteriously excited all day, checking his watch frequently and making hushed phone calls.
"Okay, stop here," he said, positioning me carefully. "Ready?"
"I've been ready for the past twenty minutes," I replied dryly.
He chuckled, then removed the blindfold. I blinked, adjusting to the fading evening light, then gasped.
We were standing in the alley where I'd found him a year ago, but it was transformed. Strings of twinkling lights hung overhead, creating a canopy of stars. A small table was set with fine china and crystal, a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket. Flowers and candles lined the brick walls, turning the once-ordinary alley into something magical.
"Alexander," I whispered, "what is all this?"
"This," he said, taking my hand, "is where everything began. Where you found me, and in many ways, where I found myself."
He led me to the table, pulling out my chair. As I sat, still stunned by the transformation, I noticed a small wrapped package beside my plate.
"Open it," he encouraged, pouring champagne into our glasses.
With trembling fingers, I unwrapped the gift to find a leather-bound book. Opening it, I discovered it was a sketchbook—my sketchbook, the one I'd used to draw him when he was recovering in my apartment. But interspersed with my sketches were photographs, handwritten notes, and mementos from the past year: a Canvas & Cup napkin from opening day, the receipt from our first profitable month, a pressed flower from the centerpieces at our first art exhibition.
"You kept all these?" I asked, turning the pages in wonder.
"I wanted to document our journey," he said softly. "From the moment you found me to where we are now."
I continued through the book, each page bringing back memories—both challenging and beautiful. When I reached the final page, I found not a sketch or photo, but a handwritten question:
*Will you continue this journey with me, forever?*
I looked up, my heart pounding, to find Alexander kneeling beside my chair, a small velvet box in his hand.
"Emma Snow," he said, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes, "you found me when I was lost, not just physically but in every way that matters. You saw the real me when I was hiding behind a false name and a lifetime of expectations. You taught me what truly matters in life."
He opened the box, revealing a ring with a stunning but modest diamond surrounded by smaller colored stones that reminded me of an artist's palette.
"I'm not asking you to marry Alexander Barrett, billionaire heir," he continued. "I'm asking you to marry Alexander, the man who helps you unclog sinks, who burns pasta, who found his purpose because of you. The man who loves you more than he ever thought possible."
Tears blurred my vision as he took my hand.
"Will you marry me, Emma? Will you continue building this beautiful, messy, wonderful life with me?"
"Yes," I whispered, then louder, "Yes!"
He slipped the ring onto my finger, then pulled me into his arms, kissing me with such tenderness that fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.
When we finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine. "I was so nervous," he admitted. "I wasn't sure if this place would seem romantic or just remind you of finding a half-dead stranger."
I laughed, wiping away tears. "It's perfect. Beginning our future where our story started."
We sat at the candlelit table, sharing champagne and the meal he'd arranged—catered by Margie's Café, of course. As night fell completely, the alley glowed with warmth and light, so different from the cold, rainy night when I'd first stumbled upon him.
"There's one more surprise," Alexander said as we finished our dessert. He checked his watch. "Actually, it should be arriving right about—"
A sleek car pulled up at the end of the alley, and to my shock, Mr. and Mrs. Barrett emerged, followed by Margie, and several of our friends from the café.
"You invited your parents?" I whispered, suddenly self-conscious in my casual dress.
"I did," he confirmed. "They want to celebrate with us. My father even insisted on hosting an engagement party, though I told him we'd prefer something small."
As the group approached, I saw something I'd never expected—genuine warmth in Mrs. Barrett's smile, and what appeared to be approval in Mr. Barrett's eyes.
"Emma," Mrs. Barrett greeted me with a light embrace. "Welcome to the family, my dear."
Mr. Barrett shook my hand, then surprised me by leaning in to kiss my cheek. "You've been good for my son," he said quietly. "Better than anything I could have provided."
Margie bustled forward with hugs and exclamations over my ring, followed by our friends with congratulations and good wishes. Someone opened more champagne, and soon the alley was filled with laughter and conversation.
Standing slightly apart from the impromptu celebration, Alexander slipped his arm around my waist. "Happy?" he asked.
I looked around at the scene—our friends and family gathered in the unlikely spot where our story began, the two Canvas & Cup locations thriving, my art career blossoming, and most importantly, the man beside me who had transformed from a wounded stranger to the love of my life.
"More than I ever imagined possible," I answered truthfully.
Later that night, back in our apartment—the same small place where I'd once dragged his unconscious body—we sat on the fire escape, looking at the city lights.
"You know," I said, admiring how my ring caught the moonlight, "when I found you that night, I was convinced I was making a terrible mistake."
"And now?" Alexander asked, his arm warm around my shoulders.
"Best mistake of my life," I smiled, leaning into him. "Though I'm still not sure why I didn't just call an ambulance."
He laughed, the sound vibrating against my cheek. "Fate, perhaps. Or just your questionable judgment."
"Either way," I turned to kiss him, "I'm glad I found you."
"And I'm glad you ran," he replied softly. "Because it led me to chase after what really matters."
As we sat together, planning our future in whispered conversations, I marveled at life's unexpected turns. I had found a billionaire, run from him, and ultimately found something far more valuable than wealth—a partner who saw me, challenged me, and loved me for exactly who I was.
And in the end, that was the greatest fortune of all.
THE END
