The Art of Not Missing You - Chapter 7

After breakfast, Uncle Jack gave me a mysterious smile and said he was taking me somewhere.

Remembering how he used to play pranks on me during my childhood birthdays, I eyed him warily. “Uncle, aren’t you a little too old for these childish games?”

Without another word, he ushered me into the car. “You’ll see when we get there. I promise it’s a surprise!”

To heighten the suspense, he even blindfolded me upon arrival.

When I stepped out of the car, the scent of flowers and the sound of birdsong enveloped me. Removing the blindfold, I found myself standing in an estate, surrounded by a breathtaking sea of lavender.

At the center of the field was a beautifully decorated swing.

“Well? Do you like it?” Uncle Jack winked at me.

His mischievous expression instantly told me this wasn’t his doing.

The next second, a deep, magnetic voice spoke behind me.

“Sophia, from now on, this is your home. Happy birthday.”

As someone who melts at the sound of a pleasing voice, I felt an immediate rush of delight.

Turning around, I froze for a moment.

If I wasn’t mistaken, the man before me was Alexander Monroe, my future husband.

He stood tall amidst the lavender, broad-shouldered and lean, his smile warm and radiant.

Like the leading man straight out of a romance drama.

My heart skipped a beat. Smiling, I greeted him and thanked him.

Instead of responding, he handed me a property deed and a set of keys.

To my shock, the deed had been issued three years ago, in my name.

Confused, I looked up at him. “This is…?”

Uncle Jack couldn’t resist explaining. “He designed it himself, oversaw the construction, and spent a year perfecting it. The inspiration? You.”

Me?

But I hadn’t even known Alexander three years ago!

As if sensing my doubt, Uncle Jack wisely chose not to elaborate. Instead, he nudged me toward Alexander and made a quick escape.

“Take your time, you two. I’ve got work to attend to.”

Birds chirped, and the floral scent lingered in the air.

Alexander gestured toward the swing, inviting me to try it.

Standing behind me, he gave a gentle push. The breeze lifted my hair, carrying his crisp, refreshing scent toward me.

He began telling me a story, and slowly, my memories resurfaced.

Ten years ago, we had been trapped in a fire together. Having just lost his parents, he had given up on surviving the raging flames.

But I had pulled him away from the collapsing door, babbling frantic words of encouragement.

I couldn’t recall exactly what I’d said, only that before we lost consciousness, he had whispered that if we survived, he would repay me.

When I woke up in the hospital, I’d tried to find him but failed.

For a long time, I’d thought he hadn’t made it, and the grief had weighed heavily on me.

“Sophia, if it weren’t for you, I would’ve been buried under that door,” he said softly.

The shared ordeal instantly bridged the distance between us.

Teasing, I asked, “So, is this arranged marriage your way of repaying me with your life?”

It was hard to reconcile the tall, striking Alexander before me with the broken boy from that night.

The contrast was staggering.

Before he could answer, I laughed it off. “Just kidding. Before returning to the city, I actually had a boyfriend. We, ”

Alexander pushed the swing higher. “I know. But since you agreed to marry me, he’s in the past. From now on, it’s just you and me.”

His words drifted in the wind, barely audible.

But the intensity of his gaze told me I hadn’t misheard.

My cheeks burned.