Page 197 of Before Dawn

Warmth bloomed in me. I pulled him close, kissing him—soft, unhurried—a silent exchange beyond words.

When we finally pulled apart, I whispered, “That was perfect.” Then, with my fingers laced through his, I led him forward, savoring the scenery, the unexpected adventure, him.

A few minutes later, a tour guide named Louis appeared, his friendly grin breaking the spell.

Curious, I fired off questions, eager to learn more.

Most unique plant here?Corpse flower.

How old is the garden?One hundred and eighteen years old.

Best time of year to visit?Spring and fall.

With each answer, my excitement grew, like the garden itself was unfolding as a living storybook.

Then, I spotted clusters of yellow primroses, glowing under the afternoon sun.

I gasped. “These are my favorite!”

Louis smiled knowingly, glancing at Mikkel. “We were informed. There’s a set inside for you.”

I turned to Mikkel, my vision blurring.

“Don’t cry,mi reina,152” he said, his voice a quiet caress. “Teadoro.153”

I let out a teary giggle. “Te adorotoo.154”

Louis explained that primroses typically didn’t bloom this long, but the cool weather had extended their season. Even nature itself had conspired to make this moment last.

As the tour ended, my excitement didn’t fade. I rambled on about the flowers, my words tumbling out in breathless awe, and Mikkel—always listening—watched me with quiet affection.

“And did you see those roses? And the peonies?” I gushed. “I didn’t know they came in so many colors!”

Just as we prepared to leave, Louis returned with a small basket. From it, he pulled out a delicate, hand-knitted bouquet of primroses.

“These are for you,” he said, handing it to me. “Ten primroses, just as Mr. Suarez requested.”

I held the bouquet close, my heart nearly bursting. “Why ten?” I asked Mikkel softly.

His voice dropped, slow and deliberate. “Because ‘visit a flower garden’ was number ten on your bucket list. I first saw you on the tenth of March. Our first kiss was at ten p.m. on concert night. And not to mention—” his lips curved slightly, “you’re a ten.”

A shiver ran through me.

His words, his thoughtfulness, and the way his love showed in every detail—it was beautifully consuming.

“Oh, Mikkel,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

He pulled me into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “I know, baby. I know.”

After thanking Louis and handing him a tip, Mikkel turned back to me, his gaze heavy with something deeper than love.

“You deserve the universe at your feet.” His fingers brushed my cheek. “I had these flowers knitted for you, so they’ll never wither.”

Tears pooled in my eyes, but I smiled. “There aren’t enough words in English or Spanish, to say how much you mean to me.”

Then,without hesitation, I closed the distance, kissing him softly.

Because this—this moment, this man—was everything.

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