IT was a night of passion and bliss, with the world shut out, and we were just two people following our hearts. She had left early the next morning, turning back to look at me before getting into her car, a look not of worry or fear, but of soft satisfaction.

And for the two months I was away, I couldn’t stop thinking of her, her delicate touch and seductive scent. I didn’t want to count the days until I could see her again because they would take too long to pass.

The texts, phone calls, and video chats kept us connected, and she told me some days after I had left, “I am losing my focus in my shop.”

“How?”

“Because I think of you so much, I get lost in thought.”

I laughed a little because hearing that made me feel so good. But a couple of weeks later, during another video call, I saw a worried look on her face.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

She sighed and answered, “My ex-husband, he shows up regularly at the shop and at socials with my friends, trying to give people the impression that we still have a close relationship.”

“And that’s because you’re seeing me.”

“Yes, it’s quite discomforting for me.”

“He’s still trying to have control over you.”

“And what’s of no help is that my daughter is trying to discourage me from having a close relationship with you.”

“She knows?”

“He told her, putting emphasis on our age difference.”

“That’s not a good thing for him to do.”

“So there are two against me now, and when his family knows, they will all be against me.”

“This is quite absurd because you’re a free woman who has a right to live her life.”

That situation left me somewhat worried because, given her pleasant nature and quiet disposition, he would take advantage of her.

“She definitely needs me around to help her deal with this,” I mused.

And as the days went by, I knew we couldn’t live two worlds apart, and I couldn’t continue with a job that took me away to different countries.

She had mentioned she had to take a business trip, and knowing she needed a break from the stress she had been dealing with, I asked her to come to New York so we could spend some time together.

She accepted, and I took a week’s leave from work to accommodate her.

She stayed with me in my condo, and it was an unforgettable week spent together, shopping, sightseeing, having lunch at lovely dining establishments and enjoying elegant dinners at exclusive restaurants.

Written in the city where dreams are made was the beautiful love story my heart desired.

Her return home, though, was met with the same problems involving her ex-husband and his family, who now knew she was seeing someone younger than her. It left me wondering what kind of family this was, for they knew he had wronged her and put her through so much pain and mental anguish.

“He’s a wealthy and influential man in society,” she had told me. “And many have benefitted from his funding and charity work, so no one sees his wrongs.”

After a few weeks, the situation hadn’t improved for her, and being alone, I knew she might fold under the pressure to stop seeing me. So, there was one thing left for me to do. I took emergency leave and flew to Guyana. I did not tell her I was coming back. I arrived in Georgetown in the late morning, checked into the Marriott, and went to see her at the shop.

As soon as I walked in, I saw her ex-husband conversing with a gentleman who was apparently waiting for someone. I ignored him and walked up to the counter, where she was attending to a customer. She did not see me when I walked in because she was taking fragrances down from a shelf.

When she turned and saw me, there was a mixture of surprise and relief on her face.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming back.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” I said.

There weren’t many customers in the shop, which was good for me, as I had her complete attention.

“You look exhausted,” she remarked quietly.

“I just flew halfway around the world to ask you one question.”

I did not speak in too low a tone because I wanted everyone to hear what I had to say. I took a jewellery box out of my pocket, opened it and asked her, “Will you marry me?”

“What?!” she exclaimed, taken completely by surprise.

I heard the quiet comments from the customers.

“How sweet!”

“Romantic.”

But her ex-husband walked up to me and said, cold fury on his face, “You see I am standing right here, and you dare to ask her such a question.”

Now I knew I could speak in her defence, and I said casually, “You are her ex-husband, so she’s a free and single woman.”

“And you are a young man who doesn’t deserve her.”

“And you do?” I asked calmly. “You couldn’t treat her right, and you still want to control her life?”

The muscles in his face grew taut, but I stood there tall, a figure of strength, and looking at her, I could see the disturbed expression on her face.

I put the ring back in my pocket and said quietly to her, “You don’t have to answer now. Just think about it, then you can.”

I went back to the hotel, definitely exhausted, with so many things on my mind. I knew I had taken her by surprise with the proposal, and it was not where I had planned to do that either, but I had to, out of fear that I would lose her.

That evening, I was in the shower when there was a knock at the door. I grabbed a towel, tied it around my waist and, still wet, answered the door. She was standing there with an even more disturbed look on her face. She looked at me, took a deep breath, then threw herself on the bed and buried her face in the pillow.

I knew frustration when I saw it and went back to the bathroom to finish showering hurriedly.

When I finished, she was sitting on the sofa, leaning back with her eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” I asked, sitting beside her.

For a long moment, she did not answer. Then she opened her eyes, sat up and said, “No, I am not.”

“What happened?”

“Your proposal. Why did you do that?”

“Well, for one, I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and, because of your situation, I was fearful that I would lose you.”

“Oh, God,” she groaned, putting her arms around me and burying her head against my shoulder.

I held her close so she could calm down. A long moment later, she raised her head and said, regret in her eyes, “It has made matters worse.”

“How?”

“My daughter isn’t pleased that I’m seeing someone younger, thanks to her father influencing her mind with negativity.”

“That’s not fair to you, though.”

“I know.”

“So, what about your son?”

“He thinks I should follow my heart.”

“Well, that’s good.”

We both sat there for a long while in silence. Then I got up and said to her, “I thought of finding another job, of making plans for our lives together, and if I have to leave without your answer, I may not come back.”

She looked at me for a long moment, pain in her eyes. Then she got up, sighed and said, “I’m sorry, but this is so difficult for me. I don’t want tension with my daughter.”

“I understand. If you choose this, I will support you in mediating all of this and any more complications.” Deep in my heart, I did not want her to walk out the door without knowing her answer.

She looked at me with a measure of relief at my promise but remained mostly conflicted and undecided. She walked to the door and opened it, stood there for a while, then closed it and turned around, tears in her eyes.

“I can’t leave you. I love you and, yes, I will marry you.”

I hugged her close as she cried, tears also in my eyes because she had found the strength she needed.

“You will never regret this,” I promised her. “I waited so long to find you. You will be my forever.”