Chapter 43
4 Months Later
The Spanish town of Prado was nestled on the mountainside, a place where time seemed to slow down. The town was a picturesque gem with its whitewashed buildings and terracotta roofs scattered along narrow cobblestone streets. Bougainvillea vines draped over wrought-iron balconies, adding bursts of vibrant color to the scene.
As the sun rose over the mountains, it cast a warm, golden light on the town, enhancing its already breathtaking charm. Mila and Archer's home, a rustic yet cozy abode, was perched on the hillside. From their doorstep, Mila had a clear view of the rolling hills and the distant peaks, their outlines softened by a hazy morning mist.
Mila, with her long, dark hair and a serene expression, sat barefoot on the front steps of her home. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, and her chin rested on her knees. She was in perfect harmony with the town. The morning sun's rays played with her hair, casting a warm glow upon her.
A gentle breeze wafted through the mountains. The garden surrounding the house was a true work of art, a burst of colors and fragrances. Flowers of every hue burst forth from meticulously tended flowerbeds. The scent of lavender, roses, and jasmine filled the air, creating an intoxicating perfume.
Archer was busy tending to the garden with utmost care. Mila watched him as he knelt beside the flowerbeds, his hands expertly pulling out the weeds. He moved with a graceful rhythm.
"Aren't you going to be late?" Mila asked, her gentle voice laced with concern, her eyes fixed on the sun, which was climbing higher and higher in the sky.
Archer paused, his fingers tenderly caressing the lavender plants in his hand. "I only have a few more to go."
Over the past few weeks, Archer had dedicated himself to planting those lavender plants all around the perimeter of the small house they rented from his old nanny. It was a labor of love, not just for the fragrant flowers themselves but for the woman who sat on the doorstep watching him. Mila's world was slowly dimming as her sight began to fail her, and it weighed heavily on Archer's heart. She stumbled more often, her once-independent steps now requiring the gentle support of his guiding hand. The headaches that had become a frequent visitor to her life were a constant reminder of her diminishing vision.
But Archer was determined to ensure that Mila's world remained as bright and beautiful as ever. He spent every available moment outside of his work not just tending to the garden but meticulously ensuring that every nook and corner of their beloved house was safe for her to move around in. The rough edges were smoothed, obstacles removed, and fragrant lavender now graced the pathways to guide her. The kitchen floors were changed to tile so Mila knew where she was based on the feel of the floor beneath her feet. A bell was hung on the main door, lavender was planted around the house, mint by the back door, rosemary near the benches in the garden, and roses by the mailbox. Archer did everything he could think of to make sure their home would be safe and sound for Mila.
As he knelt by the lavender plants, his actions spoke louder than words, and the affection in his eyes was a testament to his love for Mila. In every lavender plant he placed in the ground, he planted a piece of his heart, offering her not just a garden filled with beauty but a life filled with care, understanding, and tenderness.
"You need to shower," Mila said with a playful grin, wrinkling her nose as she looked at Archer, who was still covered in the scent of earth and lavender.
"I'm gonna be in water all day," Archer retorted, rolling his eyes with a playful chuckle.
After arriving at Prado, their life had taken a different turn, one filled with simple pleasures. Archer had found a job as a swim instructor at the local boys and girls club, reveling in the joy of teaching young hearts to find their way in the water. Mila, with her passion for words, had embraced a new chapter in her life, writing a weekly column in the local newspaper and occasionally teaching writing classes at the high school.
