(Note: This chapter is told
from Belle's point of view.)
The trip to wherever we were
going was an incredibly silent one. Part of the reason was that I couldn't
think of anything to say except "Where are we going?" and I knew for a fact that
Shawn wasn't about to answer that question. I think the other part was that I
don't really know what to say when I'm around Shawn, you know? It's like my
relationship with him has changed in the way that I'm almost afraid of what
will come out of my mouth the moment I open it.
So, that's what I think.
I've been trying to figure out where the heck we're going. Was that a right
turn? No, I think was left. Hmm…I have no clue. I give up.
Finally, the limo stopped,
and I heard the engine stop. I heard Shawn get out, and soon the door on my
side opened. I felt Shawn reach across me to unbuckle my seat belt, and then he
grabbed my hand.
"Be careful when you step
out," he warned me. "It might be a little slippery."
"Okay," I responded, using
his hand to help support myself as I stood up. I yelped in surprise when Shawn
scooped me up. "Shawn, what in the world are you doing?" I cried.
In reality, I wasn't mad at
him or anything like that. I actually felt like my heart was going to burst out
of my chest. I'd always wanted to be swept off my feet by my Prince Charming—I
just never expected it to be in this type of situation with me blindfolded with
no idea where I was. I always thought I'd be able to see when it happened.
"Why'd you pick me up?" I
asked. I figured if he'd do it without warning, the least he could do was to
give me an explanation.
Shawn laughed, a sound I'll
always love and never get tired of. "I just can't have my Isabelle falling all
over the place," he explained, chuckling.
I side sighed. "Okay, fine."
I pretended I was disgusted, but inside I was jumping for joy. My
Isabella? Did Shawn Brady just call me his Isabella? Cool. Maybe there's
progress being made in our relationship. Maybe there's hope for us.
Anyways, I'm getting off-track
here. I felt us going slightly downhill, but then the ground leveled off. Then
Shawn was walking on something hard, because the "ride" wasn't as soft. Shawn
stopped, and lifted me onto something.
"Careful," he warned again. "You're
not on solid ground anymore, Toto." He kept a hold of my hand and pulled
himself up. "There we go," he said, panting a little. I don't blame him for
being a little out of breath. With my limited judgment, I think he carried me a
fair distance. I felt him stand behind me and take my blindfold off. I blinked,
trying to adjust my eyes to the light. When the scene in front of me came in
focus, I let my jaw drop. We were on Shawn's boat, Fancy Face II, on the
deck. Laid out were a blanket, a basket, and two unlit candles. Oh, and a
stereo with a bunch of CDs stacked up beside it. Can't forget the stereo.
"Shawn," I began, "this is
amazing. How much time did this take you?"
Shawn wrapped his arms
around my waist. "It doesn't matter, because every minute I was cleaning,
sweeping, polishing, and shopping, I was imagining the way your face lights up
when you smile, and that image was worth every minute," he whispered in my ear.
I smiled, touched and a
little embarrassed by his words. "Thanks," I said.
Shawn took my hand and led
me over to the blanket. "Sit," he instructed, turning on the stereo and
lighting the candles.
I immediately recognized the
song. It was "From This Moment On" by Shania Twain, and Shawn knew that song
was on of my favorites. We always listen to it when we're studying together for
a history test. I don't know why, but for some reason it helps both of us
study.
Shawn finally sat down
across from me and reached into the basket. Digging around for a few seconds,
he pulled out two forks and, smiling, placed one in front of each of us.
"For you, my dear, beautiful
Belle. And-"he continued, pulling out a plate with a piece of cake and putting
it between us, "for us to share. Oh, and I almost forgot." He took out two
champagne glasses and a bottle of Martinelli's Sparkling Cider, and proceeded
to pour a glass for each of us. "I'd like to make a toast," he said, raising
his glass to eye level.
I nodded, raising my own
glass.
Shawn smiled. "To you,
Isabella Black, and to me. To this new, growing relationship that we have and
that I'd like to continue. May we continue to love and respect each other, and
may we always be there when we need each other."
I nodded again. "To us."
CLINK.