Peter’s POV

I tell myself I am not nervous. This is a lie. I am so nervous that my hands are slightly shaking as I hold my coffee in the airport lounge, pretending that I am just another calm, normal man about to board a flight with the woman he loves. In reality, my heart is beating so loudly in my chest that I am convinced Isabella can hear it from where she sits across from me, scrolling through her phone, completely unaware that her entire future is sitting in the inside pocket of my ...