Page 76 of Saving His Heart

“These, sweetheart, are grapevines from Italy. Every year you will receive a barrel of wine that’s being bottled in very small batches just for you. This,” I say, gesturing around us, “is Golden Ems.”

I’m not sure what to expect, and the longer she stays silent, the more I worry that I went overboard. Without warning, she launches herself at me, and I hold her tight.

“This is too much, Preston. Why would you do this?”

“So you’ll remember me, Ems. On your worst days in the OR, on your best days, and when you fall in love, I want you to remember this day.” My fucking voice is like sandpaper.

“Oh, God, Preston. I could never forget you. How could you even think that?”

“Because life is going to move on, Ems. I know that.” I’m beyond trying to hold back the sadness that laces my voice. “I even want that for you, but for now, I just want you to be mine.”

“I am yours, Preston. I—”

“Sir? Are you ready for the first course?”

We’re interrupted by a man in a white chef’s coat. I raise my brows in Emory’s direction, silently asking if she wants to continue, but she looks away.

“That would be great,” I tell our chef, Miguel.

We eat at a bistro table set for two at the edge of the roof, where the only thing you can see is the sun setting over the bluest of oceans. I force tomorrow out of my mind and focus on the here, the now. I didn’t hold back when I planned this, and I want my Goldie to enjoy it all. Course after course is served, and I only wish I could be with her when she experiences the real thing for the first time.

“Dance with me.” It isn’t a question. I need to hold her. As soon as I stand, I take her hand in mine. Holding her in my arms, Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph” plays through the speakers.

“You picked our wedding song, too?” she asks while laughing.

“Yes.” I can’t elaborate. I just move, and she glides along with me. With her head on my chest, I hope she’s listening to the words. As I sing, “You won’t ever be alone,” her tears soak into my white dress shirt, and I know she hears all I want to convey.

“Preston?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can I make my vow now?”

Her request has the hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention. “It’s a little late for that, Goldie, but go for it.”

“I vow to keep you with me always, like a photograph, in my heart.”

I feel my feet shuffle unnaturally, and Emory immediately searches my face.

Fuck.

“Preston?” Her voice tells me Dr. Camden is entering the building.

“I-I’m okay, Goldie. Maybe, just, maybe I should sit down.”

“Is there another way off this roof?” She’s all business. Turning to the chef who has been standing off to the side, she barks, “Is there an elevator up here?”

“Yes, miss. In the corner,” he points, but she is already leading me that way.

“Are you dizzy?”

“No.”

“Heart palpitations? Blurred vision?”

“Emory,” my voice is more powerful than I feel, “today is not the day. I just need to sit down for a bit, I think.”

Today may not be the day, but it’s coming soon, and we both know it with heartbreaking certainty.