Page 89 of You've Got The Love
Then he straightens, takes Abel’s hand, and walks away.
And I’m left standing behind the glass, pretending my world isn’t still in pieces.
Chapter 46
Amber
The bell over the door jingles—a small, familiar sound that suddenly feels like it could split me in half.
Jess looks up from the till, a lily tucked behind her ear, and freezes mid-transaction with a customer. Her eyes flick toward the door, widen, and her mouth curves into something halfway between a grimace and a smirk.“Oh, boy,”she mutters under her breath.
I turn instinctively, my hands still wrapped around a damp bunch of tulips. And just like that, my heart lurches so violently it knocks the air clean out of my lungs.
Bas.
He fills the doorway the way he fills every space—broad shoulders, presence that demands attention, dark winter coat unbuttoned against the cold. His glasses catch the weak December light. But it’s not just him.
Beside him stands a small boy, a knit hat pulled low over his ears, puffy jacket zipped tight. His cheeks are pink fromthe wind, and there’s something so unmistakablyBasabout him that it makes my chest twist painfully.
Abel.
“Hi,” Bas says, his deep voice rough like it hasn’t been used in days. Or maybe weeks.
“Hi,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
Abel gives me a shy smile that lights up his whole face. “Hello again, Miss Amber.” There’s a sparkle in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth tug upward in a way that is exactly like his father when he’s trying to hide a secret.
The instinct to crouch down to his level comes before I even think. My knees hit the cool tile, and the tulips in my hands rustle faintly. “You must be Abel.”
He nods, the pom-pom on his hat bouncing.
“It’s nice to meet you properly,” I tell him, meaning it.
His whole expression brightens, and something in my chest softens despite the storm brewing there. I pluck a single yellow tulip from the bucket beside me and hold it out to him. “This one’s for you.”
Abel sniffs the bloom, grinning from ear to ear. “Dank je!”
Jess leans an elbow on the counter now, openly grinning like this is her front-row seat to the season finale of a soap opera. Andrea pauses her bouquet wrapping, watching through a curtain of eucalyptus like she’s in a nature documentary.
Then Bas lets go of Abel’s hand and takes a single step toward me—the air shifts. My pulse jumps.
His massive hand disappears into his coat pocket. For a split second, my mind scrambles—does he have something for Abel? For me?
Then he moves. Slow.Deliberate. Kneeling right there on my shop floor, the smell of wet earth and blooms all around us, velvet ring box in his palm.
The room disappears.
Andrea’s sharp inhale, Jess’s whisper of holy shit, the low hum of the flower cooler—all fade until it’s just him and me.
“Amber Rae Bell,” Bas says, voice steady but low, as though the words are meant for me alone. “I let you go once. I told myself it was to protect you, but the truth is…” His jaw tightens. “I was terrified. Losing Marieke broke me. Almost losing you destroyed me. I can’t live without you. I love you. I will always love you. Will you marry me?”
The world tilts sideways.
Helovesme.
He wants tomarryme.
Abel’s big blue eyes are locked on me, bright with hope. Jess’s hands are clasped together in silent encouragement. Andrea has gone utterly still, bouquet half-wrapped in her hands.
