One afternoon, Antoine invited Amelia to his studio. He stood before a large canvas, his eyes filled with a spark of excitement.
"I want to paint you," he said. "I want to capture the light in your eyes, the warmth of your smile. I want to paint our future."
He spent weeks working on the portrait. He painted Amelia in the lavender fields, her face bathed in sunlight, her hair blowing in the wind. He painted her with a look of hope and joy, a look that reflected the love they shared.
As he worked, he talked to her, sharing his thoughts, his feelings, his dreams. He told her about his plans for the future, about the life they could build together.
One evening, he unveiled the finished portrait. Amelia stood before it, tears welling up in her eyes.
The painting was a masterpiece. It captured her essence, her beauty, her spirit. It was a testament to their love, to their journey of healing, to their new beginning.
"It's… it's beautiful," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"It's you," Antoine said, his voice filled with emotion. "It's us."
He took her hand and led her to the balcony of his studio, where they looked out over the valley, the lavender fields stretching as far as the eye could see.
"I love you, Amelia," he said. "More than words can say. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
He got down on one knee, pulled out a small velvet box, and opened it, revealing a delicate ring.
"Will you marry me?" he asked.
Amelia's heart soared. She had found love, she had found happiness, she had found her home.
"Yes," she cried, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, a thousand times yes!"
He placed the ring on her finger, and they embraced, their bodies intertwined, their hearts beating as one.