Page 148 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

When we step through the front door I come to a screeching halt. The entrance hall is empty, but the whole space is full of flowers and flickering candles.

There are wildflowers everywhere, banks of them spill across the edges of the floor, they climb up the banisters, as if growing half way up the stairs. Cornflowers and poppies and anemones and daisies. It’s beautiful and magical and totally overboard.

‘What?’ I manage to get out in my confusion.

I hear a noise from the stairs and I glance up to find Nico standing there in a tuxedo.

‘I think we’ll all just go through to the other room,’ Cynthie murmurs in my ear, and, distantly, I register that they’re all leaving, but my eyes are glued to the man who is slowly walking down the staircase towards me.

‘Hey, pretty girl,’ he says softly.

‘Nico,’ I murmur, still trying to understand how any human being can be so handsome that they literally knock all the air out of you. ‘What’s going on?’

His mouth kicks up and he laughs. ‘Okay, now I feel better. It’s taking you even longer than it took me.’

‘What are you talking about?’ I look around at the flowers. ‘Who did all this?’

‘I believe Cynthie and Gran put their brains and their resources together for this one.’ He shakes his head fondly.

‘Well, it’s gorgeous, but it’s a bit much, isn’t it?’

He smiles. ‘We’ll see.’ He examines the flowers twined around the staircase and plucks a daisy free, coming towards me. Reaching up, he carefully tucks the flower into my hair.

‘Perfect,’ he says, and I melt.

I touch his arm. ‘I have something to tell you,’ I say and I’m bubbling over. I get to tell him that I can stay.

‘Can I show you something first?’ he asks, his tone strangely serious.

‘Of course.’ I expect him to take me through to the big drawing room where I can hear the murmur of voices, the gentle hum of string music, but instead he leads me back to the stairs. I hold up the hem of my dress, careful not to trip, and I think I see amusement flicker in his eyes again.

‘I wanted to show you, before the party started. I put the finishing touches up this morning.’ He gestures to the wall by the stairs, and that’s when I realise that it’s covered in dozens of framed photographs. Most people I don’t recognise, but among them I spot photographs of Magda and a man who must have been her husband Tom. Pictures of Phoebe’s mum Stacie, first as a child herself and then later holding a tiny, round-cheeked Phoebe in her lap.

We climb higher and there are pictures of Nico, Nico and Phoebe together, Phoebe and Magda, and then I spot it. There’s a picture of me. It’s from that night in Las Vegas, and I’m sitting with a huge pile of poker chips in front of me, laughing. It’s a stunning photograph, and I recognise Nico’s work straight away.

It’s the first picture of me, but it’s not the only one. There’s one of me and Phoebe tucked up together reading on the sofa, there’s a picture of all of us in our Halloween costumes, there’s one of me leaning down to talk to Taco who is staring up at me like he loves me. There’s the one Nico took that day on the overlook when I had been watching him and Phoebe with my heart in my eyes. The selfie of the three of us; Magda patiently bent over a pair of crochet hooks trying to teach me what to do while I sit surrounded by tangled wool. Me, looking out the window in our kitchen, a cup of tea cradled in my hand. The trees outside are a blaze of orange and golden light limns my profile. I look happy. Peaceful.

I didn’t even know he had taken most of these, but each one is perfect, each one is a love letter. At the top of the stairs is a different kind of picture. It’s a Polaroid. It’s not beautifully shot or perfectly lit. It’s slightly blurry. It’s our wedding photo.

My eyes are tearing up. I look at the pictures of me, mixed in with all the others. He’s letting me know that he sees me, that I’m a part of something. A family.

He links his fingers with mine and pulls me up the last couple of stairs and along the hall. When he opens a door I realise it’s the library room. Only now it’s finished and it’s gorgeous and there are books everywhere and also rose petals for some reason.

‘Oh my god.’ I stop in my tracks. ‘You did it!’ I pick up my skirts and rush over. ‘You built a ladder!’

I run my fingers over the handles and step up, my heels hooking over the rungs. I touch the shelf of books in front of my face. ‘I love it!’ I exclaim, but when I look back at Nico over my shoulder I almost break my neck.

Because he’s down on one knee, my daisy-shaped engagement ring in his hand.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Lee

‘What are you doing?’ I gasp, and I flail about, until Nico jumps up and carefully lifts me down from the ladder, my overlong skirts tangled around us both.

‘I thought it would be romantic,’ he says ruefully. ‘But I should have remembered you’d be wearing impractical shoes.’

‘Forget my shoes!’ I hiss. ‘What… what were you just doing?’