Between Reel and Reality (Lesbian Romance)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Forever Woman

CIERRE

The news of Cimel's reconciliation is sweeping across the Internet like a category-five hurricane. We both posted adorable photos on Instagram to announce our rekindled love. My adoring gaze at Amel and the constant grin on my face in each picture speak volumes, so I went captionless with my post. Conversely, my boo has a reputation for being mischievous on social media, which even our relationship announcement couldn't change.

Amel's post features a picture of them embracing me from behind, their hold radiating a mix of affection and protection. As their middle finger points defiantly at the camera, I'm captured in a fit of endearing laughter, leaning away from their solid physique. They captioned the post, "I know y'all mad," with excessive laughing emojis.

Are they mad? I have no idea. Less than 24 hours ago, I wondered where my lover would whisk us off for our vacation. While I guessed several destinations, I foolishly hadn't anticipated the stunning beauty of the Amalfi Coast in Italy.

Walking into the entrance of our classical-styled villa, I am immediately struck by wonder. The villa's grandeur unfolds before me, revealing a breathtaking panorama of the Tyrrhenian Sea stretching out beneath us. The gentle breeze enters through the open windows, bringing in the taste of the salty air and the scent of the lemon trees. Soft melodies of birds overlap with the distant waves crashing against the cliffs below.

The foyer greets us with marble floors gleaming under the warm glow of antique chandeliers. Paintings line the walls, depicting scenes of ancient romance and mythological tales, while towering columns and intricately carved archways lend an air of timeless elegance to the space. As Amel and I walk through the abode, hand in hand, its magnificence continuously robs me of my breath. With each room we enter, the villa reveals new treasures–from sun-drenched terraces overlooking the azure sea to intimate alcoves adorned with Italian furnishings and gilded mirrors. I've stayed in envious resorts and luxurious homes, but nothing touches this divineness. Of course, my angel would do it big.

The anticipation of having uninterrupted alone time with Amel fuels my heart with increasing elation. Everyone we know is a phone call and a flight away. We are entirely unchaperoned and living in harmony for the first time in years. I try not to dwell on the miracle too deeply, or else I'll start bawling like the little crybaby I am.

Sunlight bathes the romantic bedroom suite in prisms, creating a riveting display. The luxurious bed, embellished with opulent linens made from the finest Italian cotton, entices me with its plump pillows and soft duvet. But amidst this alluring scene, the bouquet of flowers on the right nightstand captures my attention. With a delighted squeal, I realize that they are meant for me, carefully placed on my favorite side of the bed. Amel chuckles as I sprint over to them.

"Angeeel!" I sing. I steal a glance at her, offering a pout filled with affection. "But you're allergic!"

"That's why allergy medicine exists, my peach," she says sweetly.

As I focus on the lavish arrangement, my dimples deepen. The bouquet consists of at least two dozen flagrant roses, their velvety petals in shades of peach, pink, and ivory. I take in their musky aroma and notice a golden satin ribbon elegantly wrapped around them. Curiosity piques me, and I inspect the little black ink repeating on the ribbon, wondering where Amel got such an exquisite gift. Instead of finding a flower shop name, I discover my own name written over and over again in a fancy calligraphy font. My heart swells with pure admiration as I revel in this tiny, thoughtful detail. With excitement bubbling inside me, I carefully pluck a pink card from the bouquet and unfold it.

Welcome to our renaissance, peaches. With you as my co-creator, I envision a gallery of timeless memories, each one more cherished than the last. With you by my side, my palette will never run dry, and the colors of life will become increasingly vibrant even as we age. Thank you for your grace and willingness to grow with me. It has always been you, my forever woman. It always will be.