He narrowed his eyes, clearly peeved at the mention of Gil. “Well at least he told some truths that night. Yes, I’m a Sentinelwith The VEIL now,” he continued, voice low and soothing. “New division. New rules. But I was clear about wanting to be near you. I’ve already lost a year.”
Her breath caught, words stumbling out to understand. “And that means?” She couldn’t help the urge to pat his head, like he had been a “good boy” that deserved praising.
“I’ll be whoever you need me to be, Gabriella. I won’t ever leave your side if you don’t want me to,” he said, his own voice trembling and raw from the revelation. “And I want to honor both you and your fallen friends by making it up to you over and over again.”
He was giving her a choice. Just like before, after everything, Mateo was letting her decide their fate. Gabriella didn’t hesitate.
Her hands slid around his neck, her fingers running through his hair which she realized had gotten longer, gripping the silky strands like she had no intention of ever letting him walk away again.
She tilted his head back to stare up at her. “I do,” she said, her voice steady despite everything she felt. “I want you to stay.”
Mateo exhaled like he’d been holding that breath for a year. Body relaxing into her as he nuzzled into her chest.
“Then I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “In whatever capacity, I’m here.”
“I was hoping as a husband but maybe a girlcandream too much?” she teased and then gasped, realizing with a mortified expression she had just proposed to him. “Oh my god, Mateo. I mean, I would love to be your wife but we can talk more if you feel differently. And kids? I mean, I can’t have kids but we could adopt turtles. Or volunteer?”
She was panicking, words stumbling out in a chaotic mess, until she felt his heart beat erratic against her. When he looked up to her, there was a glimmer of tears in his dark brown eyes. “We seem to do things pretty backwards, don’t we?”
That earned a laugh from both of them, each wiping the tears between them. He took a deep exhale, “It would mean everything to take you as my wife Gabriella. To hold you, now and forever. Til Death do us part. And with time, I hope I can be redeemed in your eyes.”
He seemed hesitant at that confession, and Gabriella squeezed him tighter. “Your redemption happened the moment I saw you.”
Relief, stark and profound, shadowed his face. His grip tightened and she barely heard his choked, “thank you” before the lull of the ocean settled between them. They held one another, his knees and her feet sinking into the sand as the waves crashed nearby. Behind them, the turtle continued her slow, determined journey.
Mateo was home. He was safe and she finally felt at peace.
A collection of dormant emotions broke free and settled deep within her. Happiness. Devotion. Love.
“I love you Mateo. Always have and always will.”
She felt his smile against her chest before he peeked up at her. “I love you, Gabriella. Now and forever.”
EPILOGUE
Gil rested his mud-covered leather military boots on the Brazilian Rosewood desk scattered with maps of the world. He had been gifted the desk by another, many years ago, before the wood became endangered, and he held a particular antipathy for it. So when given the opportunity, he liked to drink, smoke, and rail mud on it while imagining the gifter instead.
Tonight was no exception. He was in an exceptionally sour mood as his eyes surveyed the massive stack of marked up maps next to his poured drink. Some bore red marks that trailed across oceans into circles depicting skulls while others held more gruesome depictions.
Tonight was supposed to be relaxing, he thought to himself,if it wasn’t for her.Dressed in his usual black military pants and black t-shirt, he smiled affably at the woman who had so rudely interrupted hisalonetime. A toothpick danced between his lips, his eyes narrowing on the caller seated across from him.
Spine straight, ankles crossed, she was adorned in a turquoise dress that hugged her silhouette and bore a plunging neckline in a pinnacle of elegance. Her black hair was coiled high atop her head, her dark brown skin looked newborn smooth, and her shimmery silver makeup only elevated her polish. Sheheld a delicate teacup between long, slender, ebony satin-gloved fingers in one hand and a saucer in the other. He recognized the familiar porcelain to be Fathi Mahmoud, one of her favorites that he kept here for her rare visits.
“You look well,” he said, running a large hand through his gilded hair, suddenly self conscious.
“As do you,” the woman across from him replied. She took a sip. “The coffee is exquisite."
“It’s Turkish.” He commented, eyes roaming over her with resigned appreciation. “And I made sure it had cardamon.”
Her serene facial features betrayed nothing at first. He would have missed the lightest tilt of her mouth had he now known her as long as he did. “You remembered.”
“Isn’t that all we can do? Remember one another when no one else will?”
The simple existence of both her and Gil filled the room and added a tangible pressure that would have felt uncomfortable—downrightunbearablein fact—had anybody else been in there with them. It was as if their very presences were vying for dominance.
He glanced at the maps before his eyes were drawn back to her. “Why are you here?”
“To remind you of the balance. You do realize,” the woman said, “that what you have done is considered interference, right?” She took another sip of her coffee. “You could be banished.” She sat her teacup silently on the saucer, then the saucer silently on his desk.