the most irrefutable truth.

“You already have.”

The End

Eight Months Later

“You’ve already shown me this video,” I pointed out to Theo as we rode across the bustling city of Miami. “Like, a dozen times. Before we left New York, on the jet, in the hotel, and now—”

“Just wait, there’s more to it. They added on an extra minute at the end.”

I laughed. “I really don’t think an extra minute is going to show me anything I haven’t already seen.”

“Just watch.”

I rolled my eyes but let Theo tuck me into his side as he showed me the video playing out on his tablet. It was the one the naval architect team put together to show Theo his new yacht, the one he’d had built in supersonic speed. It usually took at least three years, but with money like Theo’s… well, let’s just say he made his own timelines.

It was a gorgeous, albeit humid day in Miami, and we were on our way to see the yacht for the first time in person. We likely wouldn’t be able to take it out just yet, but Theo was so anxious to see all his design dreams in real life that he couldn’t wait any longer. We’d flown in last night, and as of now, didn’t have a date picked for when we’d return to New York.

I leaned into Theo’s chest as the video played on the screen, showing the four-deck mega yacht. As incredible as it was with its beach club extended off the stern, its oragami-like sleek engineering, its sauna and gym and pools and hot tubs and staterooms that made Philautia look amateur, I really had seen it a dozen times, and so I let my mind wander as my eyes watched the screen.

It was easy on a day like today where the sun was high in the sky and there was a warm breeze coming in off the water for me to think back to that first day I saw Theo almost year ago now. And as if that first summer we had together wasn’t enough of a crazy whirlwind to last a lifetime, the last eight months had shown me that life with Theo would be anything but boring.

We’d made a home in his New York City penthouse, and while I wished every day could be a vacation, it wasn’t long after we returned from the trip to Colorado where Theo met my parents that Theo had to get back to work. And while he spent his days in the Manhattan Envizion office, or flying around the country for different conferences, events, speeches, and more, I started my own career.

With TIME Magazine.

It had stunned me, walking into that office for the first time. I’d been shocked at how kind Mrs. Hammerstein had been when she greeted me and introduced me to her team. And I’d literally fallen out of my chair when she offered me a quarter-of-a-million dollars for one of my photographs I’d taken in Positano.

And that was just the beginning.

Not only had she published that photo on the cover of the February issue, but she had also offered me a job. And ever since, I’d flown to a dozen different countries capturing photographs for what I considered the most influential magazine in the world.

The dream I had always thought would be just that — a dream — had become a reality.

And Theo was by my side the entire way.

It was hard sometimes with both of us traveling and working. At one point, we went three weeks without seeing each other even once. Of course, that made for a memorable night in the sheets once we were together again. And no matter where our jobs took us, we always knew we’d come back home to the other.

That made it all worth it.

It’d also been a dizzying rush getting used to the lifestyle Theo led. He was one of the world’s most eligible bachelors, and when news broke that a college graduate somehow stole his heart enough for him to propose, there was no hiding from the paparazzi and onslaught of reporters begging for an exclusive interview. For the first few months of us being back in the U.S., we couldn’t leave our house without a dozen cameras and microphones shoved in our faces.

But things had quieted since then, especially since we’d kept our lips sealed about wedding plans. The truth was that we really hadn’t made many plans at all, thanks to life being so hectic.

But they didn’t need to know that.

“Okay, here’s the new part,” Theo said, and I chuckled at how giddy he was.

On the screen, the camera panned the master suite for the first time. It had many of the same art deco features that Theo loved in Philautia, like the geometric lines and cold metals combining with the warm wood and pops of color. There was an oversized bookshelf and luxurious sitting area with a blush rug and a navy statement chair that looked so comfortable I knew I’d lose days there reading.

But as much as it had Theo, the room also had bits of me.

On the white couches, there were faux fur throws, and the coffee table looked almost like a sliver of wood from a giant tree that had been varnished and stained and fitted with two industrial-looking metal legs. The comforter on the massive bed was a beautiful southwestern pattern that reminded me of the one my parents had, and there was a glass-covered gas fireplace lining the far wall, nestled beneath three gorgeous photos of the Rocky Mountains.

It was like the interior designer had taken 1920’s New York City and married it with 1980’s Colorado — all with a modern flair, of course.

I touched the screen with my fingertips, shaking my head in awe. “It’s so… us.”

“I thought so. And,” Theo said, unwrapping his arm from where it held me long enough to dig into his briefcase on the floor. “I saved a special spot on the

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