19
Rebecca's pov
Something was wrong; I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, like a whisper of unease that refused to fade. Something was still missing, something important, and it weighed heavily on my heart.
Emeliano had built a wall between us—a cold, impenetrable wall that felt higher and stronger than ever. He wasn’t free with me, and he wasn’t willing to make this flight back home a memorable one. He was distant, distracted, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip meant something more than either of us was letting on.
I sat there, right across from him, with my head resting against the small airplane window. The clouds outside blurred into white streaks against the pale blue sky, a backdrop that should’ve felt peaceful but didn’t. My fingers fidgeted restlessly in my lap, and my mind raced. I kept trying to focus on something else—anything else—but the knot of tension inside me refused to loosen.
I knew Emeliano loved me. That wasn’t the issue. I could see it in his eyes every time he looked at me, hear it in the way he spoke my name when he wasn’t distracted. But lately, he’d been worse—worse than before. His insecurities had grown tenfold, and it showed in the way he spoke less, smiled less, and avoided letting me in. He was closed off, shut down, locked away behind the same walls I’d worked so hard to tear down. And I knew, deep down, it was all my fault.
Before this trip—before everything fell apart—we’d been making progress. For a brief, fleeting moment, it had felt like we were finally getting somewhere. He had started to let me in, to trust me. He’d been almost out of his shell, like he was finally ready to take that last step. All he needed was a little push, and I had been so sure I could give it to him.
But now? Now, he was buried deeper than ever, far beyond my reach. I’d pushed him too hard, and now he was retreating, pulling away from me when I needed him most. I bit my lower lip and stole a glance at him. He was hunched over his laptop, typing furiously, his attention fixed on whatever work he’d deemed more important than me.
“Hey,” I called softly, testing the waters.
He didn’t respond. His fingers didn’t even pause on the keyboard.
“Hey,” I repeated, a little louder this time.
Still no response.
“Emeliano.”
Finally, he looked up, his expression blank. “What?”
I frowned. “I’m just going to pretend you didn’t ignore me the first two times I called you.”
He gave me a sly smile, the kind that used to make my heart flutter. “Okay.” Then, just as quickly, he went back to typing.
“I’m bored,” I said, trying again.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, still without looking up.
“Talk.”
“Then talk. Who’s stopping you?” he replied, his tone light but distracted.
I rolled my eyes, leaning back against my seat. He wasn’t going to make this easy for me, was he? For a brief moment, the playful glint in his eyes had returned, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced once again by his laser focus on whatever he was typing.
“I’ve been thinking about names for our baby,” I said, throwing the thought out there like a lifeline.
“Oh,” he murmured, still not looking up.
“Oh? Just ‘oh’?” I repeated, my frustration bubbling to the surface.
He hesitated, finally tearing his gaze away from the screen. “Sorry. What have you come up with so far?”
A small smile tugged at my lips despite myself. “I thought we should call him Daniel.”
We’d talked about the baby’s gender in Paris, and it turned out we both wanted a boy.
Emeliano frowned immediately, his brows drawing together in a way that made my heart sink. “Why Daniel?”
“Because it’s a cool name,” I said defensively. “He was a good guy in the Bible, and, well, the name’s hot. Why not?”
He cocked a brow, his expression skeptical. “No.”
“Why not?”
Before I could press further, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. My breath hitched as he handed it to me. “Open it,” he said softly.
I did, my fingers trembling as I revealed a delicate necklace inside. The pendant was simple but beautiful, and my heart swelled at the sight of it.
“What do you think?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically nervous.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “I love it.”
But before I could say more, he reached over and gently took the necklace from my hands. My confusion must’ve shown on my face because he smiled, albeit a little nervously.
“Sorry,” he said, removing the pendant. “I just needed to buy some time.”
“Time for what?”
Instead of answering, he took a deep breath, dropped to one knee, and held up the pendant. My heart stopped.
“What are you—” I started, but the words died in my throat.
“Remember when I told you the Lewis name doesn’t suit you?” he asked, his voice low and steady.
I nodded, too stunned to speak.
“Well,” he continued, his gaze locking onto mine, “I was wondering if you’d like to delete it from the back of your name and replace it with Liano.”
My hands flew to my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks before I could stop them.
“Uh… in case you don’t understand,” he added with a nervous chuckle, “I’m asking you to marry me. Will you?”
For a moment, I was too overwhelmed to respond. Then, through the tears, I managed to choke out, “I… I think it’s time to replace it with a much better name. Like, uh, Liano.”
A surprised laugh escaped him as he slid the ring onto my finger and pulled me into his arms.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Then, before I could respond, he kissed me—deeply, passionately, like it was the last kiss we’d ever share.
“I can’t believe it,” I whispered when we finally pulled apart. “I thought you didn’t want to marry me anymore. I thought I ruined everything.”
“You almost did,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
“I’m sorry,” I said earnestly.
“It’s okay,” he replied, his eyes softening. “Let’s not waste any more time, shall we?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing in confusion.
“Remember when I said I needed to buy time?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, come with me,” he said, taking my hand and leading me toward the back of the plane. “You’re about to find out why.”
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