Page 110 of Wisteria and Cloves
My lips parted, but the words didn’t come out right away. I didn’t know how to say what it meant, hearing that. Knowing he didn’t just want me when I was perfect, but also when I was unraveling.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For not making me feel like I have to earn this.”
“You don’t,” he said simply. “You never did.” The food arrived shortly after that, warm and fragrant. We ate slowly, the conversation dipping between light stories—like Julian’s disastrous attempt at baking banana bread in college—and heavier moments, like the time I first realized my parents saw me as a transaction more than a daughter.
He didn’t interrupt, didn’t offer empty comfort, he just listened. And that alone felt revolutionary. After dinner, he offered his hand. “Walk with me?” I took it without hesitation, my fingers curling into his.
He led me through a hidden door at the back of the restaurant, down a winding path I hadn't noticed before. The conservatorytransformed in the evening light—the glass panels catching the sunset and turning everything golden. Plants cast long, intricate shadows across the stone pathways, creating patterns like secret messages written in light and dark.
"This is my favorite time here," Julian murmured, his voice soft against the backdrop of trickling water and the distant calls of exotic birds. "When the day visitors are gone and everything settles into itself."
I squeezed his hand gently. "It feels like we're the only people in the world."
He glanced down at me, his eyes warm in the amber light. "That was the plan."
We wandered through a section filled with towering bamboo, their hollow stalks occasionally knocking together in the gentle breeze, creating a natural wind chime effect.
"It sounds like music," I whispered, tilting my head to listen more closely to the bamboo's gentle percussion.
Julian nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Nature's first symphony. Miles once spent three hours here recording the sounds. Said it helped him compose."
We continued along the winding path, passing through sections filled with exotic flowers that seemed to glow in the fading light. Some closed their petals as dusk approached, while others were just beginning to open, their sweet fragrance filling the air.
"Look," Julian said softly, guiding me toward a small alcove where a bench was nestled among flowering vines. "This is what I wanted to show you."
As we sat, I realized we had a perfect view of a rare night-blooming orchid. Its petals were just beginning to unfurl, creamy white with delicate purple streaks that seemed to pulse in the dim light.
"It only blooms for one night," Julian explained, his voice hushed with reverence. "And only when the conditions are perfect. Temperature, humidity, even the phase of the moon has to align."
I watched in fascination as the petals continued their slow dance, revealing themselves with deliberate grace. "How did you know it would bloom tonight?"
"I didn't," he admitted, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. "But I hoped. Sometimes the most beautiful moments are the ones we can't plan."
The metaphor wasn't lost on me. I turned to look at him, finding his hazel eyes already studying my face with an intensity that made my breath catch. "Is that what this is? A beautiful moment we couldn't plan?"
His free hand came up to cup my cheek, his touch featherlight but sure. "This is everything I never dared to hope for," he said quietly, his thumb brushing across my cheekbone. "You, here with me, choosing to trust me with these moments."
My heart fluttered against my ribs as I leaned into his touch. "I want to trust you with more than moments," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Julian's eyes darkened, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips before returning to meet mine. "Lilianna," he breathed, my name like a prayer on his tongue.
"I know I'm still learning," I continued, my voice barely audible over the gentle sounds of the conservatory around us. "Still figuring out who I am without all the rules and expectations. But I know I want to figure it out with you. With all of you."
His hand tightened slightly against my cheek, an anchor in the swirling emotions between us. "Are you certain?" he asked, his voice rough with barely contained desire. "Because once we cross this line, there's no going back. Not for me."
I searched his face, seeing the vulnerability beneath his careful control. This strong, accomplished man was laying himself bare for me, waiting for my answer like his entire world hung in the balance.
"I'm certain," I whispered, my hand coming up to cover his where it rested against my cheek. "I've never been more certain of anything."
That was all it took. Julian's mouth found mine with a reverence that stole my breath, his lips soft but insistent against mine. This kiss was different from our first—deeper, more intentional. It spoke of promises and possibilities, of a future we were choosing to build together.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing unsteadily, Julian rested his forehead against mine, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Do you know that?"
I laughed softly, my fingers tracing along his jawline. "I hope not. I rather like having you around."
He opened his eyes then, the intensity in them making my stomach flutter. "Lilianna, I need you to understand something." His voice was serious now, the playful moment shifting into something deeper. "What we're building together—what you're choosing—it's not just romance. It's a complete life. A future that will have challenges, expectations, public scrutiny."
