Stella stepped out of the room, dressed in a white frock that flowed down to her ankles. The delicate floral print danced softly against the fabric, and the square neckline framed her collarbones beautifully. The gentle afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows made her glow.
Simon, standing by the window in a crisp white shirt and black pants, turned at the sound of her footsteps. His eyes softened as he took her in — admiration flickering beneath the usual dark intensity.
"The frock looks familiar," Stella said, smoothing her hands over the fabric.
"Yeah," Simon replied with a small smile. "You liked it. Remember that day I tutored you? We stopped by that store, and you couldn't stop staring at it." His gaze turned almost sheepish. "I bought it instantly."
Stella laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're insane."
"And you're mine," Simon said, his voice low, possessive — yet undeniably warm.
Her heart stuttered. He always had a way of making her feel cherished and claimed all at once.
They enjoyed breakfast together — simple yet comforting — with light conversation filling the air. Stella couldn't stop smiling, and neither could Simon. They spent the morning lazily tangled on the couch, talking about everything and nothing.
By lunchtime, Simon had insisted on cooking, preparing one of Stella's favorites — creamy pasta with garlic bread. They sat together by the window, sunlight pouring in as they ate.
"I like this," Stella murmured as they ate.
"Like what?" Simon asked, glancing down at her.
"This... just us," she said. "Simple. Calm."
Simon leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "Then I'll make sure you get this every day," he promised.
And for the first time in a long while, Stella felt like she was exactly where she belonged.
*
The evening breeze was cool, brushing against Stella's skin as she walked barefoot along the shore with Simon. Their hands were interlocked, fingers gently entwined like they were made to fit together. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, the sun lazily descending toward the horizon.
Stella sighed softly, glancing at the sky. "There's still a lot of time before the sunset," she said, tilting her head toward Simon.
Simon smiled, his gaze fixed on her. "That means we have time for something else."
Stella arched a brow. "And what's that?"
A mischievous glint flickered in Simon's eyes. "Time to harness your powers," he answered, stopping right in front of the water.
Stella froze, her smile faltering slightly. "What?"
Simon turned to face her, his hands still holding hers. "You've powers. You just need to tap into it," he said softly. "And look around you — there's water everywhere."
Stella swallowed, her heart hammering. She was not sure. "I… I don't know if I can," she admitted.
Simon cupped her face gently, his thumb stroking her cheek. "You can. You just need to trust yourself… and me."
Something in his voice soothed her nerves. She nodded slowly. "Okay… what do I do?"
Simon smiled. He walked behind her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist as he guided her hands forward, facing the water. "Close your eyes," he whispered into her ear.
Stella did. Darkness flooded her vision, but she could feel Simon's chest pressed against her back, his steady breathing anchoring her.
"Now," Simon murmured. "Focus. Feel the water in front of you. It's calling to you, Stella — answer it."
Stella inhaled deeply, trying to concentrate. At first, all she could feel was the gentle waves hitting the shore, the soft sand under her feet. But then — a strange vibration prickled through her fingertips, like a pulse connecting her to the water.
"I feel it," she whispered, her eyes still closed.
"Good," Simon encouraged, his voice a soft rumble. "Now control it. Harness it. Don't force it — let it respond to you."
Stella's brows furrowed in concentration. She envisioned the water shifting, bending, and moving at her command. Slowly, ever so slightly, she raised her hand — and to her utter disbelief, a small stream of water began to rise, curling around her fingers like silk.
Her heart skipped a beat. "I'm doing it," she gasped.
"You are," Simon murmured proudly. "But don't stop now. Push it further."
Stella swallowed hard, her nerves threatening to break her focus. She wanted to do more. Her power hummed through her veins, and before she could second-guess herself, she imagined fire — a flame — something that shouldn't coexist with water.
And then it happened.
A blue flame erupted above her hand, flickering and dancing without burning her. It was a flame made from water, defying logic. Stella's eyes flew open, pure shock and awe flooding her face.
"Oh my god," she breathed. "I did it."
Simon's chest swelled with pride as he stepped around her, his dark eyes never leaving her. "You did it, little fish," he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I knew you could."
And with that, they resumed walking along the shore, their fingers intertwined. The waves lapped gently at the sand, and the sun slowly began to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold.
"I just realized you never gave me my birthday gift," Stella said, crossing her arms as she looked at Simon.
Simon barely spared her a glance, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. "I will."
Stella's frown deepened. "My birthday was yesterday, Simon."
"I know." His response was nonchalant, like it didn't bother him at all. Instead of addressing it, he smoothly changed the subject. "So… who taught you jet skiing?" he asked, his tone casual, but his raised eyebrow said otherwise.
Stella caught on instantly and narrowed her eyes. "Rocco taught me."
Simon's jaw tightened, his smirk instantly dropping as he glared at her. Rocco? His teeth clenched.
Stella met his glare head-on. "Problem?"
"Yeah," he muttered darkly, his voice low and threatening. "I have a big fucking problem."
She scoffed. "Really? Who told you to disappear for three years without a single word?" Her tone was sharp, and the sudden shift in the air was undeniable.
Simon's eyes snapped back to her. "So it's my fault now?"
"Damn right, it is," she muttered, turning away from him, staring at the sunset. Silence settled between them, thick and heavy.
"Give me my phone," Stella said, extending her hand.
Simon didn't argue. He slipped her phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. She instantly lifted it to capture the breathtaking scenery before them. The sun dipping behind the horizon, washing the sky in hues of orange and purple.
"You love nature," Simon noted, watching her closely.
A small smile played on her lips. "I do. It feels peaceful. Calm." She turned slightly, her green eyes meeting his. "It's the second place I feel like home."
Simon took a step closer, his voice quieter now. "And the first?"
Instead of answering she just smiled, her green eyes crinkling.
Simon caught her arm, his grip firm but gentle, and without a word, he started pulling her along, leading her deeper into the forest.
"Simon," Stella called, slightly breathless. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," he muttered, his voice low and unreadable.
A few moments of silence passed before Simon finally spoke again. "I've been meaning to ask you something."
Stella raised a curious brow. "Go on."
He didn't slow his pace, his eyes focused straight ahead. "If I asked you to marry me right now… would you do it?"
Stella blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
Simon's grip tightened just slightly. "I mean it. If I asked you to marry me this second — no planning, no big crowd — would you say yes?"
Stella frowned, thrown by the sudden question. "Uhm… no."
Simon froze mid-step. His entire body tensed as he slowly turned his head toward her, his dark eyes narrowing. "No?"
Stella sighed, realizing how it sounded. "Not like that. I mean—" She groaned. "I'd want Gigi, Agatha, and Mal to be there, at the very least. It wouldn't feel right without them."
Simon's jaw clenched, his lips thinning in frustration. "So you wouldn't marry me if it was just us?" His voice was sharp, almost accusing.
Stella's mouth fell open in disbelief. "Oh my God, you idiot!" she laughed, shaking her head. "Of course, I would marry you. I already decided that the day on the yacht when you told me everything." Her voice softened, her gaze locking with his. "I'd marry you anywhere, anytime, Simon. I just… I'd want them to be a part of it too."
A flicker of something dark crossed Simon's face. "You sure?"
"Positive."
Simon didn't respond. Instead, his grip tightened as he continued walking, his steps quicker and more determined. Stella let out an exasperated laugh. "Where are you taking me?"
"You'll see," he murmured again.
As they broke through the forest clearing, Stella's steps faltered. Her eyes widened. "Wait…"
There, nestled between the trees, was a breathtaking white gazebo adorned with twinkling lights and soft white flowers. At the center stood a priest. And seated in the chairs around it were Gigi, Agatha, Mallory, Naomi, Blake, and Rocco. Every single person she'd mentioned — they were all there. Watching her with warm smiles and a few with teary eyes.
Stella's hand flew to her mouth, her throat tightening as tears pricked her eyes. "Simon…"
Simon turned to face her, his expression unapologetic, his eyes brimming with dark intensity. "You promised," he said simply, his voice rough. "So I'm holding you to it."
Stella let out a soft, choked laugh, her heart hammering. "You did all this?"
Simon shrugged, his smirk tugging at his lips. "Told you. I don't break promises."