Chapter 150 - The Return to Annecy
Two weeks later, the spring sunshine melted the last traces of snow from the high meadows surrounding our estate in Annecy.
The blackened gates at the foot of our driveway had been completely removed, replaced by two towering stone pillars entwined with blooming purple wisteria and white climbing roses.
The shattered windows of the villa had been restored with double-glazed safety glass that reflected the sparkling blue waters of the lake like a mirror of fallen diamonds.
A long wooden table stood beneath the ancient cedar tree on the lawn, laden with platters of warm croissants, fresh wild strawberries, roasted chicken, and carafes of sparkling cider.
Around the table sat our family of choice: Marcus Vance, laughing as he toasted Captain Dupont; Dr. Moreau, smiling warmly as he reviewed Noah’s latest engineering blueprints; and Sister Beatrice, sitting in a comfortable wicker chair, enjoying a large bowl of strawberry gelato with unbridled, joyful indulgence.
Down by the lake's edge, Noah and Sophie were laughing as they threw bread crusts to a family of white swans gliding across the mirror-like water.
Ethan and I walked down the stone terrace steps, our arms wrapped around each other's waists, our bare feet sinking into the cool, lush green clover.
He wore an open-collared white linen shirt and faded jeans, the dragon tattoo on his neck completely quiet, his gray eyes shining with an eternal, boundless peace that filled every corner of my soul.
"Arthur would have loved this, Victoria," Ethan murmured, looking out over the tranquil lake.
"He is here, Ethan," I smiled, leaning my head against his broad shoulder. "He’s in Noah’s eyes. He’s in Sophie’s laugh. And he’s in the peace we built with our own hands."
Ethan stopped walking, turning to face me on the green grass.
He reached out, his strong, calloused hands gently cupping my cheeks, his thumbs brushing across my cheekbones with an infinite, holy tenderness.
"I spent twenty years fighting in the dark, Victoria," Ethan whispered, his voice rich with deep, unshakeable emotion. "I thought my life was meant to be an iron shield that absorbed blows until it broke."
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, his breath warm and sweet against my lips.
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"You taught me that the shield isn't meant to live in the dark. It’s meant to protect the garden so the flowers can grow."
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down, my lips meeting his in a slow, deep, breathtaking kiss that sealed our future forever under the warm French sun.
