Page 85 of Undercover Shadow
He opened the lid, revealing an antique ring—an emerald surrounded by diamonds in a Celtic design that looked ancient and precious.
“This was my grandmother’s,” he said. “Hers and my grandfather’s was the only happy marriage in three generations of MacTaggerts. Before she died, she told me to give it to the woman who made me want to be better than I was.”
Tears blurred my vision as he continued.
“I know we’re complicated. Our work is dangerous, our lives are unconventional. But when I thought I’d lost you at Brodick, nothing else mattered. Not the mission, not protocols, not the world ending. Just you.” He took a breath. “Marry me, Leila. Not because Idris asked me to protect you, but because I love you. Because you make me brave enough to believe we can forge our own path, make our own way, not repeating the mistakes of the past.”
I looked at the ring, at Tag’s face, at the city spread below—my past and my future colliding in this moment.
“My parents failed because they gave up,” Tag said. “I promise you I will never give up on us.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Yes?”
“Yes.” Stronger now. “Yes, to all of it—the love and the complicated, messy, beautiful life we’ll build.”
His hands shook as he slipped the ring onto my finger. The emerald caught the setting sun, throwing green sparks that reminded me of Tag’s eyes. Then he was kissing me, and I was laughing and crying at the same time.
When we finally broke apart, I looked back toward the cemetery, hidden now behind the hills.
“He would have been happy about this,” I said. “Idris. He always said I needed someone as stubborn as me.”
“He also said you needed someone who could cook. I’m thinking I might need lessons.”
I laughed. “That’s what Mrs. Murray is for.”
On the return trip to the airport, I kept looking at the ring, then at the man who, one day soon, would be my husband.
“Glenshadow or London?” Tag asked as the SUV pulled onto the tarmac.
“What?”
“To live.”
I smiled. “Glenshadow for home. London for work.”
“Agreed.”
As we boarded the plane that would take us to Edinburgh, I looked back at Damascus one more time. This city of memory and loss, of beginnings and endings.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay longer?” Tag asked.
“I’ve done all I came to do.” I nudged him. “And more,” I added with a wink as I held up my left hand.
The return trip was quiet. We sat together in comfortable silence, my hand in his, the ring catching the cabin lights.
“June,” I blurted.
“June?”
“For the wedding. June at Glenshadow. It should be small.”
“Agreed.”
As the plane began its descent, I watched Scotland appear through the clouds—green and gray and nothing like Damascus, but home now in a way I hadn’t expected.
“I love you,” I said.
