He turned faintly pink at the memory of that night. In the dusk with candles and girly music, he'd been more nervous and scared than at any time in his life. Marta held his heart in her hand, and had done ever since the boat in the Phillipines. Probably before that, even, if he could admit it to himself.
To realise they'd spend their whole lives together on the island made him happier than he'd ever felt. "Nothing less than you deserve, Marta." he murmured and pulled out the cushioned chair he'd set up at the table. "Come, take a seat."