He squeezed my hand.
“No more secrets.”
“Not even good ones?”
“Not even good ones.”
“Deal.”
“Although technically, this one worked.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t push it.”
He leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
For the first time all morning, I finally let myself breathe.
Before we went to the airport, Ian asked me for one more detour.
This time, I didn’t question him.
I let him lead me.
I already knew where this was going.
Still, I wanted to see it happen.
In Santorini, with the sea stretching behind us and the sunlight spilling across the water, Ian took the ring from the box.
Then, right there on the beach, he slid it onto my finger beside the wedding band I had received the day before.
It fit perfectly.
As if it had been waiting for me.
I looked down at the two rings.
Then I looked at my husband.
My eyes filled with tears.
For one terrifying morning, I had believed that the man I trusted most in the world had been keeping a life from me.
Instead, he had spent a year secretly trying to bring a piece of my family’s history back to me.
I took his hand.
And standing there on that beach, with the waves behind us and the ring shining beside my wedding band, I knew something I hadn’t understood when I woke up that morning.
Sometimes a secret can look exactly like betrayal until you finally learn why it was kept.
And this time, the man who had promised me he didn’t do secrets had only broken his own rule because he wanted to give me something I thought I had lost forever.
I looked at him through my tears and smiled.
I knew I would never doubt him again.
