Chapter 39: Drawn To Darkness: Epilogue

(One year later…)

My life has been a whirlwind of excitement, happiness, love, and hard work.

Emphasis on the hard work.

The soup kitchen has taken up so much of my time this past year, I’m surprised Dario hasn’t lost his shit yet.

The man is a saint.

It’s the one-year anniversary of when I first opened the soup kitchen’s doors to the community, and I now have a team of over twenty people working for me.

I had to give up the assistant manager position at Skylar’s restaurant, but luckily she understood. I think it was for the best because we’ve grown closer as friends, and I would hate for work to get in the way of our friendship.

“Jesus,” Sherrie gasps as she stares at all the food containers being carried in by a catering company. “It looks like we’re feeding an army.”

I let out a chuckle. “We are. Back to work.”

Sherrie’s been helping out whenever she can, and I always make it worth her time.

We continue setting up the coffee and pie section, and when we’re done, I head to the other side of the hall to make sure the food’s right.

The catering company was Dario’s idea. He also paid a hell of a lot of money to foot the bill.

“Eden, stop doing all the work and let the staff handle it,” Sherrie says. “Dario asked you to meet him out front.”

“I don’t have time! The doors are going to open at any moment.”

“Then you better hurry.”

Letting out a sigh, I rush to the exit, and the moment I walk outside, surprise brings me to a sudden stop.

There’s a huge crowd of people filling the parking area, all here to celebrate the successful year we’ve had. In the middle of the crowd is a small stage decorated with twinkling lights and flowers.

Dario takes the steps up to the stage then speaks into a microphone. “Can the beautiful lady right at the back please come forward so I don’t look like an idiot in front of all these people?”

Jesus.

As I begin to walk, the crowd parts for me, and wherever I look, I see a familiar face.

Emotion wells in my chest, and I have to fight not to cry, but when I see our friends and Dad standing at the foot of the stairs, I can’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

I take the steps up to Dario, who’s giving me a loving smile.

“Hi,” I whisper. “What are we doing up here?”

“Louder for the people in the back,” Dad shouts.

Dario keeps the microphone between us as he says, “The first time I saw you dance, you captured me under your spell, and not a day has passed where I haven’t fallen more and more in love with you.”

My breathing speeds up, along with my heartbeat, and I wipe my palms on the fabric of my dress.

Dario goes down on one knee, and looking up at me, he continues, “I want to spend my life under your spell, Eden, and the only way I can think of making sure that happens is by begging you to marry me.”

A sob bursts from me, and I sink to my knees so we’re face-to-face as he asks, “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes,” I croak, too emotional to speak any louder.

I shove the microphone out of the way and throw my arms around his neck, whispering, “Yes, I’ll marry you, Dario. Yes, a million times yes.”

He presses a kiss to my lips before pushing me back so he can slip a diamond the size of Texas onto my ring finger.

“Thank you, Tesoro, for making me the happiest man alive.”

Holding him as tight as I can, I say, “Not half as happy as you’ve made me.”

“Let’s get everyone fed,” Dad calls out.

As the people head into the hall, I stare at Dario, who took one look at me and decided I was his, and now I’m wearing his ring.

God, I’m so lucky he caught me dancing.