The wind rushing past the car window carried the faint saltiness of the Italian coast, mingling with the warmth of early summer. The narrow, winding roads were lined with olive trees, their silver-green leaves shimmering in the late afternoon light. Ruth sat beside me, her light yellow dress soft against the leather seat, her brown hair cascading in gentle waves over her shoulders. She was staring out the window with that faraway look she always had when she was thinking too much.
I reached over, brushing my fingers against her hand. "You're chewing your lip again," I murmured, watching her head turn toward me.
Her cheeks warmed slightly. "I'm just… nervous. You didn't tell me much about your uncle, Dylan. What if he doesn't like me?"
A low chuckle escaped my chest. "Ruth, this man raised me when no one else would. He's seen me at my worst. If he can tolerate me, he's going to worship the ground you walk on." I squeezed her hand. "Besides, you're impossible not to love. Trust me, I've tried."
She rolled her eyes, but I saw the faintest smile tug at her lips. "You're not helping."
I glanced at her, my lips curving. "Do I look worried? No. Because I know once you step into that villa and he sees you, he's going to start telling embarrassing stories about me within seconds, just to impress you."
Ruth laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're just trying to distract me."
"Maybe," I admitted, leaning closer until my lips brushed her ear. "But you have nothing to fear, my Ceren. You're the best thing I'll ever bring home. And my uncle? He'll see that in an instant."
The road curved up into the hills, offering glimpses of the sparkling Mediterranean far below. Ruth's fingers tightened slightly around mine as the villa came into view—a sprawling Tuscan-style estate nestled among vineyards, its terracotta roof glowing in the evening light.
"Wow," she whispered, her voice soft with awe.
"Yeah," I said, unable to take my eyes off her. "It's something, huh? But you—" I smirked. "You're making this view look dull."
She turned to me, narrowing her eyes in mock irritation. "Dylan Fynder, do you ever stop with the smooth lines?"
"Not when I'm with you," I replied, pulling the car to a stop at the front entrance.
As I got out and opened her door, the heavy oak doors of the villa swung open. A tall man in his sixties, dressed in a crisp white shirt and linen trousers, stepped out. His dark hair was silvering at the temples, and his face bore the kind of sharp, commanding features that always made people straighten up when he looked at them.
"Dylan," he said, his voice carrying a warm, slightly accented tone. His eyes flicked to Ruth, and a grin spread across his face. "So, this is the girl who stole my cold-hearted nephew's heart?"
Ruth's face flushed immediately, and I felt her tense beside me. I slipped an arm around her waist. "Uncle Alessandro, don't scare her off before we even walk inside."
Alessandro laughed, stepping forward to clasp my shoulder with one hand before taking Ruth's hand with the other. "I would never scare someone so beautiful. Benvenuta, cara. Welcome to my home." He kissed her hand lightly, making her blush even more.
"Thank you," she said softly.
The interior smelled of fresh bread and herbs, with the rich scent of olive oil lingering in the air. Warm golden light streamed through the large windows, illuminating rows of family photos and shelves of books.
As we walked inside, Alessandro glanced back at us. "I have waited years for this day. Dylan, my stubborn boy, finally brings someone home. And not just anyone—a woman who, I can tell, is special." He smiled at Ruth. "He looks at you like you're the only thing that matters."
"Uncle," I muttered, a little embarrassed, though Ruth's soft smile at me made my chest tighten with something warm and fierce.
We settled into the large dining room, where Alessandro's housekeeper had set out a feast of fresh pasta, roasted vegetables, and wine. Ruth's nerves seemed to melt away as Alessandro launched into stories of my teenage years, like the time I tried to "borrow" his old motorbike and nearly drove it into a vineyard.
"You didn't tell me about that," Ruth said, her laughter bubbling as she nudged me.
"Because I knew he'd use it against me," I grumbled, though I couldn't help but smile.
Alessandro leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine. "He was always trouble, this one. But I always knew… one day, someone would come along who could tame that fire. I can see now that it's you, Ruth."
Ruth's cheeks colored, and I slid my hand onto hers under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "She doesn't just tame me," I said quietly. "She's the only one who makes me feel alive."
My uncle's grin widened. "Good. That's how it should be."
Dinner stretched into a soft blur of warmth and laughter. Alessandro always had a way of making people feel at home, and Ruth, despite her initial nerves, had begun to loosen up, even teasing me at one point when Alessandro launched into yet another story about my reckless younger days.
"Wait," Ruth said between giggles, "you crashed into the vineyard?"I grumbled, stabbing a fork into my pasta. "I didn't crash. I… made an unplanned stop."Alessandro snorted. "Unplanned stop? You nearly demolished my entire row of Sangiovese grapes! He came running back, covered in mud, looking like a drowned cat. I thought I'd have to ship him back to London just to teach him some discipline."
Ruth laughed so hard I thought she'd fall out of her chair. Her laughter was soft but unrestrained, the kind that lit up the room. I found myself watching her instead of listening to the rest of Alessandro's story. There was something in the way she glowed under the golden light, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled, that made me want to lock this moment away forever.
Alessandro caught me staring, of course. He always noticed too much. "Ah, Dylan," he said with a sly grin, "you have that look on your face. I know it well. It's the look of a man who has already given his heart."
Ruth's cheeks went pink, and I gave Alessandro a warning look. "You're going to scare her off."
"She's not going anywhere," Alessandro said with quiet certainty, his eyes warm as they settled on Ruth. "Not if she has even half a brain. She knows what she's found."
Ruth looked down, embarrassed, and I took her hand under the table, giving it a slow, reassuring squeeze. My thumb traced lazy circles on her skin. "Ignore him," I murmured, "he likes to talk too much."
"But he's right," Ruth whispered, glancing up at me with a small smile. And just like that, my heart flipped in my chest.
Alessandro poured more wine into our glasses. "To Ruth," he said suddenly, raising his glass high. "The first woman brave enough to handle my nephew. May she continue to make him less of a brooding idiot."
Ruth laughed nervously. "Oh, I'm not sure about that, but thank you."
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't stop the smile from tugging at my lips. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you, Uncle?"
"Immensely," he said, clinking his glass against Ruth's.
When dinner ended, Alessandro insisted we walk through the vineyard to "see the stars." The sky was a tapestry of dark velvet, pinpricked with constellations, and the scent of grapes and earth hung heavy in the night air. I slid my jacket over Ruth's shoulders when she shivered slightly.
"You didn't tell me it was this beautiful here," she said softly, looking around at the rows of vines glowing silver under the moonlight.
"Because I wanted to see this moment," I said, my voice lower now, more intimate. "You, here. It's perfect."
She turned to me, her eyes glimmering in the dim light. "You're good at this, you know. Saying things that make me melt."
"Not good. Just honest," I murmured, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close as we walked.
We stopped at the edge of the vineyard, where the lights from the villa looked like fireflies in the distance. Ruth tilted her head up to look at me, her hand resting lightly on my chest.
"You know," she said, her voice hesitant, "I never thought I'd have something like this. Someone like you. A home that doesn't feel like… pain."
I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing along her jaw. "Ruth," I said quietly, "you are my home. You've been my home since the day I realized I couldn't imagine a life without you. I'd set the world on fire to make sure you never feel that pain again. Do you understand?"
Her lips trembled, and she nodded, tears glistening but not falling. I kissed her then, slow and unhurried, tasting the wine still on her lips. The kiss felt like a promise, the kind you don't dare break.
But when I pulled back, something inside me shifted—like I couldn't wait another second to tell her what my heart had been screaming for months.
"Ruth," I whispered, taking a small step back. She looked at me, confused, as I reached into my pocket. My knees hit the earth before I even realized I'd dropped to them. The dirt was cool, the vineyard bathed in silver moonlight, and there she was—my whole damn universe standing right in front of me.
Her eyes widened, her hands flying to her mouth. "Dylan… what are you doing?"
I took a deep breath, my chest tight but my heart so full I thought it would burst. "I'm doing the only thing that feels right. The only thing I've ever been sure of. Ruth… I've spent years building walls, convincing myself I didn't need anyone, that I wasn't meant for love. And then you…" I swallowed hard, my voice rough, "you walked in and tore them all down. You made me feel alive again. You made me want to fight for something that's more than power or revenge—you made me want to fight for us."
Her tears spilled over, glimmering like diamonds under the moonlight.
"I don't care what's broken in our pasts," I continued, my voice softer now but every word heavy with truth. "I don't care about scars, or the pain we've survived, because all I see when I look at you is my future. My everything. My reason." I pulled the small velvet box from my pocket and opened it, revealing a simple, stunning ring that glimmered like it belonged to her all along.
"Ruth Danan," I said, my throat tight, "will you marry me? Will you let me spend every day proving to you that you'll never face the darkness alone again? That you're my Ceren… my mirror, my other half… and that I'll love you until my last breath?"
She choked out a sob, her knees buckling as she dropped down to the ground with me. Her hands cupped my face, trembling, as she whispered, "Yes. Oh God, yes, Dylan. A thousand times yes."
Relief and pure joy crashed over me like a wave. I slipped the ring onto her finger, my hands shaking, and then pulled her against me, kissing her with everything I had—all the love, all the promises, all the devotion I'd never been able to put into words.
I held her close, her face still wet with tears, both of us on our knees in the vineyard like we were the only two people in the world. The moon was high above us, and the night air was laced with the scent of crushed grapes and lavender from the surrounding fields.
Ruth looked at me with a wonder in her eyes I'd never forget. Like she was memorizing the moment. Like she was terrified she might wake up and it would be gone.
"I still can't believe this is real," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I cupped her cheek, brushing my thumb over her soft skin, letting my forehead rest against hers again. "It's real, Ceren," I murmured. "You're real. We're real. And I'm never letting you go."
She gave a shaky laugh, but I could feel how fast her heart was pounding against my chest, how fragile and full this moment was.
I kissed her once more—gently, reverently—and when we pulled apart, I held her closer in my lap, wrapping my coat around her shoulders to keep the chill off her skin.
And then, without thinking too much, I started to hum.
Her head shifted slightly, and I felt her smile against my neck. "Are you… humming?"
I nodded, brushing my lips over her temple. "Something came to mind," I whispered.
She looked up at me again, brows raised slightly, curiosity shimmering in her eyes.
So I did what I'd done only once before—I sang. Not for a crowd. Not for performance. But just for her.
Softly, intimately, with my mouth barely an inch from her ear, I began to sing:
"And I'd give up forever to touch you,'Cause I know that you feel me somehow..."
Her breath hitched. She went still in my arms.
"You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be,And I don't wanna go home right now..."
I felt her melt into me, her hands clutching the fabric of my shirt tightly, her heart pounding louder.
"And all I can taste is this moment,And all I can breathe is your life..."
She let out a soft sound, a choked laugh maybe, or a sob—something broken and beautiful all at once.
"'Cause sooner or later it's over,I just don't wanna miss you tonight..."
I stopped just for a second and whispered in her ear, "I don't want to miss a single second of you, Ruth. Ever."
She turned her face, pressing a kiss to the corner of my jaw, her voice trembling. "Dylan…"
But I wasn't done. Not yet.
"And I don't want the world to see me,'Cause I don't think that they'd understand..."
My voice dropped, low and gravelly, full of the weight of everything we'd survived.
"When everything's made to be broken,I just want you to know who I am..."
Ruth's shoulders began to shake with quiet tears, her arms wrapping around me tighter than ever, like she was afraid I might disappear into the air.
I kissed her again. Her lips were wet with tears and salt and love.
"I know who you are, Ruth," I whispered between kisses. "I've always known. And I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you know who I am—because I'm yours."
She let out a small, broken laugh, burying her face into my neck. "God, Dylan… you make me believe in everything again."
I kissed the top of her head, the cool wind moving gently through the vines around us. "You make me believe in forever."
We stayed like that for a while, swaying in the dark, still kneeling in the dirt, in each other's arms with nothing but starlight and the aftertaste of forever between us.
And as the moonlight pooled at our feet, the words came to me like they'd been waiting for this night:
"Some loves are not found—they are forged in fire and written in stars, the kind that even time itself cannot unmake."
And when we finally stood and made our way back toward the villa, hand in hand, I knew the world could throw whatever it wanted at us.
We'd already won.