A/N: The long awaiting chapter! Enjoy! Don't curse me in the end.
Matilda's pov
In the hushed silence of the night, the warmth of our recent lovemaking still lingered between us. I lay there, trying to find sleep, my mind gently drifting through the maze of my thoughts. Unexpectedly, Marc's lips brushed my shoulder, his touch feather-light.
" Are you asleep?" he asked softly, his voice a tender whisper in the darkness.
I shifted slightly, my eyes meeting his in the dim moonlight. " No," I replied, a teasing tone slipping into my words. " What about you? Usually, you're out like a light after..."
He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent shivers down my spine. " Well, either I am, or I'm just ready for round five. Your call," he teased back.
I grinned. " As tempting as that sounds, I think we both need some rest."
In the quiet, just as I thought Marc had succumbed to the pull of sleep, he spoke again, his words a tender declaration that hung heavy in the air. " I want to marry you, Matilda. I want to be yours officially. I'm done with this kind of relationship."
His words took me by surprise, stirring emotions that I hadn't anticipated. I turned to face him, my heart caught in a tumultuous dance of love, warmth, and apprehension. " Marc, it's just a piece of paper," I whispered, my voice carrying the weight of my conflicting emotions. " You're already mine, and I'm yours. We don't need a document to prove our love."
But his eyes, dark and determined, held a depth of longing and conviction that struck a chord within me. " It means more to me," he said, his words like a plea, a fervent desire laid bare. " Saying it's just a piece of paper makes me doubt that you're European. I know what marriage means to you. I want to be called Marco, the husband of Matilda, not your fiance, not your boyfriend. I want to age together, to have kids, and to give my last breath in your arms, for God's sake. Is that too much to ask? I want to hear my name in the French way for the rest of my life."
His vulnerability, his sincerity, tugged at something deep within me, igniting a longing for a stable, committed future. Yet, the practicalities of life clawed at my conscience, reminding me of the responsibilities he bore. " It's important to me too," I admitted, my voice softening with the weight of my own desires. " But your siblings still need you, Marc, and you need them. I worry that our commitment might cause a rift between you. They might feel like they're burdening you and I should be the one getting your attention."
He reached for my hand, his fingers lacing with mine as he tried to ease my concerns. " Matilda, I can manage everything. And if you're worried about changing their stability, we can live here. The estate is vast; we can take a whole wing for ourselves. I want you to be a part of my life in every way possible."
" Marc, it's tough."
His eyes bore into mine, intense and unyielding. " You don't have to be a psychologist for everyone all the time," He implored. " Think about yourself, about us. Pick what you really want. If you say yes, I'll have the wedding tomorrow."
" Can't we wait?" I asked, my voice laced with uncertainty, a plea for more time.
" I'm done waiting!" He declared, his tone firm, leaving no room for negotiation. His frustration, his impatience, clashed with my indecision, leaving me torn between the love I felt for him and the practicalities that held me back.
In the depths of my soul, I grappled with the choice before me, a choice that seemed to symbolize far more than a simple marriage. It was a testament to my commitment, not just to Marc but to the life I envisioned with him. Yet, the fear of disrupting the delicate balance of his family, of burdening him with more than he could handle, clawed at the edges of my resolve.
