Laura nestled deeper into his arms, enveloped in a languid sense of happiness.

Suddenly, Ian held something out in front of her eyes. It was a small bouquet of marigolds.

Laura blinked and looked up at her husband.

“A gift?”

He nodded.

“I stopped briefly at Covent Garden to buy them.”

Laura smiled faintly and took the bouquet. She was delighted, though not entirely surprised, for this was hardly the first time receiving flowers from him.

During the two months of their engagement before the wedding, Laura had received a bouquet from Ian every single day. He visited her at Dunvil Park, where she was staying, presenting a bouquet he had crafted.

Each bouquet, carefully arranged and tied with a silk ribbon, possessed a harmonious and vibrant beauty. It was a reflection of his love for Laura.

Even after their marriage, Ian never ceased offering flowers. Each morning, he would head to the greenhouse, gather an armful of fresh blooms, and bring them to Laura’s room. There, he would carefully arrange them, one by one, in a large vase adorned with gold and rubies.

Decorating his wife’s space with flowers was a cherished ritual for him, and since their marriage, he had not missed a single day.

Laura inhaled the scent of the marigold bouquet in her hands. Every time she received flowers from him, her heart fluttered.

“Marigolds are truly lovely flowers. Oh, and the ribbon is tied so neatly, too. You bought these from a flower girl, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s kind of you. Those children rely on selling flowers to make a living.”

“The girl who sold me these marigolds was quite clever. She had memorized the meanings of all the flowers she sold. For young gentlemen, she recommended flowers symbolizing courtship, and for older gentlemen, those representing wealth and honor.”

“My, how bright she must be. So, what did she say about the meaning of marigolds?”

Ian gave a gentle smile.

“Grief.”

“Such golden flowers, yet their meaning is so sad.”

“Perhaps to offer golden love rather than dark sorrow to those who have passed.”

Laura gazed at the small bouquet in her hands, savoring her husband’s words.

As time passed, golden sunlight, like the marigolds, began to stream through the raised window shades.

Leaning against her husband, Laura began to think it might be time to return to the hotel. The restaurant attached to it had set operating hours. But she didn’t voice the thought aloud.

Ian was always concerned that Laura was too thin, and he never tolerated her skipping meals. That he was still driving as evening approached suggested he had other plans in mind.

‘Perhaps he’s reserved a table at another restaurant,’ Laura mused vaguely.

The carriage continued forward without pause. Soon, it entered a cemetery lined with neatly trimmed ornamental trees.

Laura looked out the window in surprise. Massive tombstones of various designs passed by.

“Where… are we?”

Ian gently clasped Laura’s hand, which held the marigold bouquet.

“Since we’re in London, we should visit Lady Abigail.”

Laura let out a soft sigh.

In truth, Laura had planned to visit her grandmother’s grave ever since preparing for the London trip. Her uncle’s warning to stay away from the grave no longer held any power, so she could finally pay her final respects.

She hadn’t shared this plan with her husband. If she had, he would surely have insisted on coming along. Laura didn’t want to show him her breaking down before her grandmother’s tombstone. It would only sadden him, too.

But Ian saw right through her heart.

“You were planning to sneak off at dawn, weren’t you?”

“How… did you know?”

“I have a knack for reading your mind.”

He lifted her chin, locking eyes with her, and spoke sternly, as if issuing a warning.

“If you ever think of crying alone again, I won’t let it slide.”

Laura nodded. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

The carriage came to a stop. Ian stepped out first and offered her his hand. Laura took it, stepping carefully onto the footrest and descending.

Safely on the ground, Laura looked ahead. A rectangular sandstone tombstone, as tall as she was, came into view.

“Abigail Pendleton.

February 1, 1823 ~ August 16, 1895

God sent this woman to spread love in the world.”

The moment Laura saw the tombstone, her eyes welled up. But she forced a smile.

“Grandmother, I’m sorry. I’ve only now come to see you.”

Fidgeting with the handle of the marigold bouquet, she continued.

“I’m married now. To Mr. Dalton, whom you always liked. I’m so happy. I feel joy every day. Every single day, I’m grateful to be alive.”

Her smile began to falter. Soon, tears started to fall from her eyes.

“…But… I’ll never forget your love, Grandmother. To me, you were another mother, left behind when my own mother passed…”

She placed the marigold bouquet at the foot of her grandmother’s tombstone.

Laura could no longer hold back. She threw herself into Ian’s arms and began to sob loudly. The tears she couldn’t shed at the funeral two years ago now poured out like a flood.

Ian wrapped his arms tightly around her and whispered in a tender yet heavy voice.

“Lady Abigail knows. She knows how bravely her granddaughter has navigated life. Even now, she’s watching over you from heaven, Laura.”

Laura could feel it. Ian understood her heart. He felt her sorrow and grief as if they were his own, willingly embracing and sharing them.

His love for his wife was so vast that he took even her pain as his own.

Laura’s sorrow dissolved rapidly, like a lump of salt plunged into a bucket of water. The anguish of not being there for her grandmother’s final moments faded like a memory from a past life.

Ian’s love was a complete and perfect love that healed all of Laura’s wounds.

In his arms, her sobs gradually subsided. When she calmed, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Lifting her face, he wiped her tears with the care of a mother cleaning a child covered in paint.

He always tended to Laura with such kindness. The things her mother might have done for her, had she lived, Ian did for her every day.

Each time, Laura felt an emptiness in her heart she hadn’t even known existed being filled. The lifelong void of her childhood loss was perfectly replaced with a satisfying sense of happiness.

“Ian.”

“Hm?” he replied, wearing the most charming and gentle smile in the world.

With sincerity, gratitude, respect, and a devotion she’d offer for a lifetime, Laura confessed to him.

“I love you.”

Ian’s hand, gently wiping her tears, paused. He seemed quite surprised—and understandably so. It was the first time she had declared her love so clearly.

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, and spoke quietly but with undeniable seriousness.

“Say it again.”

Laura’s eyes sparkled with affection and admiration.

“I love you. I love you with all my heart.”

He slowly leaned toward her. Their noses brushed, and their breaths mingled against each other’s skin.

“So, our love is now equal in weight.”

He smiled languidly, his eyes brimming with happiness.

“Close your eyes, Laura.”

Laura slowly lowered her eyelids. He gently rubbed the tip of his nose against hers.

“My Laura. I will love only you. Even after passing through the gates of heaven and gaining eternal life.”

His lips drew closer to hers.

“This is a kiss of my vow.”

His lips met hers.

Laura wrapped her arms around his neck, accepting her husband’s fervent kiss.

She didn’t doubt his vow for a moment. Even if called by God to the realm of souls, his love would not end.

And she would love him beyond death, too.

If there were a scale to measure the weight of love in this world, Laura and Ian would see their two hearts balanced perfectly, facing each other in harmony.

But they had no need for such a scale. Living together, they could feel, every minute and every second, that they were devoted to each other at the same height, with the same weight.

THE END