CEO's wife?
Check.
Up on the carrier ladder?
Check.
Married to a hunk?
Check.
Is he a hopeless romantic?
Double-check.
Is everything perfect?
Hell yes!
Is life throwing even more curbs at us?
A million times yes!
Sara de Beaumont has it all...
My husband lent me a hand as I changed from my pajamas into a soft rose dress, even if he would have preferred me to stay in bed, as was clear from his looks. I sneaked my arms around his, following his steady steps down the stairs, through the foyer, through the "living room" to one of the many doors that would lead to the gardens. "It's one of many ways to get there", Michael explained to me, swinging the glass door with the white flower frame open. "There is a room designated for entering the garden, but it always puts you right in the middle. From the living room or the kitchen you start at the very outside, so you can see everything."
"And it's probably worth that."
"Oh, hundred fold", Michael agreed, offering me his hand. "Careful, steps."
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Michael never let go of my hand as we strolled through the garden. I awed at the flowers, at the well-kept grass and the beauty of the mansion.
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Normandy had a charm that was similar to Marthe's quaint house, the so typical French country style that had grown so dear to me, and the more time we spent in France, the more I seemed to love it.
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"There's a bench over there."
"I can still walk honey."
"Are you sure?", his eyes quickly darted over me, over and over again trying to catch a sign of weakness.
