Chapter 208

Cynthia was still basking in the joy of their miraculous reunion, but she was startled when she looked up at Jonathan’s face. His eyes were rimmed red, and silent tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” she asked softly. She had never seen him shed a single tear in their three years together. Yet here he was, the tears falling like scattered pearls, unstoppable.

She had to admit, he looked heartbreakingly beautiful. His naturally pale skin, perhaps even paler from his time at sea, gave him an otherworldly look, like a vampire from a film—haunting, shattered, yet mesmerizing.

Jonathan’s blue eyes, glistening with tears, shone like blue diamonds, holding depths as vast as the stars, oceans, mountains, and snowfields. His gaze was full of layered emotions: the joy of finding her, relief at their survival, and hints of lingering despair and fear. It was as if he were still grasping at the edges of reality, caught between disbelief, helplessness, and overwhelming joy.

There was so much in his eyes that Cynthia dared not look any longer. Instead, she leaned in and kissed his tear-streaked eyes, and he closed them instinctively, letting the moment wash over him. She leaned over him, and soon, their breaths mingled. This time, Cynthia initiated things.

Later, as Cynthia thought back on it, she could hardly remember how things unfolded—only that it felt surreal and inevitable.

When Jonathan awoke, he found himself alone. A flicker of panic shot through him as he sat up and hurried out of the bamboo cabin. The sun was rising over the horizon, casting a golden glow on the beach. Last night had exhausted him, draining every bit of his energy, but he’d slept more soundly than in weeks.

“Cynthia!” he called out, his voice echoing, fearing it might all have been a fevered dream born of his brush with death.

Before long, Cynthia appeared from the nearby grove. Jonathan rushed over to her and pulled her into his arms. “Where did you go? I was so worried.”

Cynthia laughed, gently nudging him back and holding up the figs. “I just went to pick some breakfast.”

He looked at the figs in her hand, still frowning slightly but feeling the relief settle within him. After a beat, he smirked and said, “For a moment, I thought you were going to ditch me after using me.”

Cynthia looked up in shock. She could see a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

“Wha—what nonsense are you talking about…” Cynthia stammered, feeling flustered. Although it wasn’t the first time they’d slept together, his bluntness embarrassed her.

“Oh, did I get it wrong?” Jonathan teased. “Last night, you were the one who made the first move and forced me. Now you have to take responsibility for it.”

Seeing him act so shamelessly, Cynthia felt a rush of exasperation. He looked just like his old self—the charming, roguish flint she knew so well.

“Oh, come on! You’re like six-foot-one and very skilled. How could I possibly ‘force’ you into anything?” Cynthia shot back, refusing to back down. Jonathan loved to play the victim. She knew his tricks too well and wouldn’t fall for them.

“Besides, you didn’t even try to resist, did you?” Cynthia thought of last night, a slight blush crossing her cheeks. Not only had Jonathan not resisted—he’d been ravenous, like a man…

She’d initiated things, sure, but by the end, he’d taken over entirely, sweeping her along until she could barely catch her breath. When Cynthia woke up in the morning, she felt more exhausted than if she had been chopping bamboo for a day and a night. And here he was, shamelessly twisting the story to make her the guilty party.

“I didn’t resist because you were practically on top of me,” Jonathan countered, still grinning. “If I fought too hard, wouldn’t that hurt your pride?”

Cynthia was so exasperated she almost choked. She shoved him. “Leave me alone!”

But Jonathan didn’t leave her alone, trailing after her as she ate breakfast, shadowing her while she chopped bamboo, and even following her to the shore when she went to catch fish. He was like a persistent ghost, always hovering close by. Finally, at her wit’s end, she turned and snapped, “Fine, what do you want me to do to take responsibility?”

His face lit up instantly. “Marry me!” He paused, then quickly corrected himself, “No, I’ll marry you.” Still unsatisfied, he added, “I don’t care how we say it—we’re getting married, and from now on, we’re sharing a bed every night.”

Watching Jonathan’s rare moment of awkwardness, Cynthia couldn’t help but laugh. This tall, commanding man acted like a lovesick puppy, clinging to her arm.

“Please say yes,” he pleaded, his voice playful yet oddly sincere. “I’m yours. You have to take care of me.”

Cynthia muttered, “What did I do to deserve this?” But with a sigh, she relented and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Alright, alright. Quit whining—I can’t handle it.”

Jonathan straightened up immediately, his eyes lighting up with hope. “Really? Do you mean it? You’re accepting my proposal?”

Cynthia smirked. “More like I’m caving under pressure.”

Jonathan didn’t care about any of that. He was thrilled. Sweeping her up in his arms, he spun her around on the sand, laughing with pure joy, his voice carrying across the beach. Cynthia held on to him, feeling the world spin as if everything around them had disappeared, leaving only the sound of the rushing wind in her ears.

Looking down, she saw Jonathan’s smiling face again, and Cynthia was pleased. After all they’d been through, after all the brushes with death, she finally understood her own heart. Especially in those fleeting, agonizing seconds when she’d thought he’d stopped breathing—her world had felt cold and empty, as if color itself had drained away. At that moment, she’d realized how deeply she loved him, more than she’d ever admitted to herself. The overwhelming joy of having him back made her cherish every single moment they were together even more.

Cynthia didn’t want Jonathan to face someone as crazy as Whitney alone in the future. She wanted to stand by his side and fight together, no matter the outcome. So, let’s be together.

Their laughter intertwined, echoing across the beach until they collapsed onto the sand. The soft sand felt like a plush bed beneath them, half-sinking them into its warmth as if lying on clouds. Jonathan cupped Cynthia’s face, his gaze locking onto hers. A vibrant spark shone in his eyes—pure joy, unrestrained and raw. He seemed happier than ever before. “Thank you, thank you for saying yes,” he whispered, unable to hold back his excitement.

Cynthia smiled, a glimmer of playfulness dancing around the small beauty mark near her eye like a butterfly in flight. “Anytime, pretty boy.”

The sunset cast a golden glow over the silvery stretch of sand, pale shadows swaying in the breeze, and the sea glistening like glass. Their figures, locked in a tender embrace, were like a painting of pure beauty, captured forever in the livestream’s view.