Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“What did you just say?”
“I said, marry me,” he repeated, and he laughed when my eyes got even wider. “I don’t care if it’s crazy. I don’t care if no one else understands it. I love you,” he said, and he emphasized each word of that last sentence with his eyes searching mine. “I love you, and I don’t want to — no, I can’t lose you.”
I bit my lip against the emotion crawling up my throat, watching Theo with tears blurring my vision.
“Say you’ll be mine forever,” he pleaded. “Say it, and I’ll be yours forever, too.”
I choked on a mixture of a sob and a laugh, nodding as more tears flooded my eyes until they started pouring over my hot cheeks.
“Yes?” Theo asked, his eyes widening.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m yours.”
His next exhale was on the wings of the biggest smile I’d ever seen spanning his face, and he pulled me into his arms so quickly and so completely that it set off more than one of the machines I was hooked to. Alarms rang and still he held me, and kissed me, and I laughed and kissed him back until two nurses ran in yelling at us in Greek first and then in English to let go of each other.
Theo finally released me but held my hand tight even as the nurses fixed the wires and tubes. They started checking my vitals then, asking me questions about pain level and asking me to perform various tasks.
All the while, Theo was there at my side, holding my hand and smiling at me like an absolute loon.
He was crazy. We both were.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
One Month Later
“Dear Ms. Dawn,” Theo read from the letter in his hand — the one I repeatedly tried to jump up and snag for myself, but he kept out of my reach. “It is with great pleasure that I write to you with an exciting offer that I hope you will receive with as much enthusiasm as I have sending it.”
“Theo, give it to me!” I tried to jump again, but he spun away from me, waltzing over to the oversized window with a reading nook that overlooked Central Park. The leaves were just beginning to turn, their greens fading to faint shades of orange and yellow and red.
We’d been “home” at Theo’s penthouse in New York City for two weeks now, flying back to the States on his jet as soon as we were both cleared from the hospital and took care of the affairs with the yacht in Athens. We were set to fly to Colorado for him to meet my family in just two days.
That was, if he was still alive by then, because I was about two seconds from strangling him if he didn’t give me the mysterious letter that came addressed to me that morning.
“My name is Dorothy Hammerstein, and I was blessed enough to be in Santorini on the night of your stunning exhibit at the Blue Top Gallery. I was also surprised to find such exquisite work from a photographer unbeknownst to me, and even more surprised to find that my generous offer to purchase my favorite photograph of the lot was declined.”
I waited until Theo was by the couch, then I jumped on top of it, launching myself onto his back and clinging on like a monkey. He laughed as he caught me, but still kept the letter out of my reach as he continued.
“Admittedly, I broke the rules of the gallery and snuck a few photos of your work to show to my boss. I’m hoping you will forgive me once I tell you this next part, which is that we would like to offer you a large sum of money — to be discussed in person — for the photographs that were on display at the gallery that evening, as well as a permanent spot on the TIME Magazine photography team.”
“Oh my God!” I squealed. “TIME Magazine?!”
Theo ignored me, continuing. “Your photographs haunt me still to this day, Ms. Dawn, and I look forward to the day when the rest of the world gets to have their hearts split open and their minds warped the way I did that evening in Greece. Please give me a call at the number below at your earliest convenience to discuss the details further. Until then, may your focus stay sharp. Respectfully, Dorothy Hammerstein, Director of Photography, TIME Magazine!”
Theo said the last part in almost a giddy squeal of his own before he dropped the letter to the ground and reached for where I was saddled on his back. He spun me around to face him, wrapping me up in his arms and kissing me hard.
At least, until I pinched his nipple and made him drop me.