Dominic strolls toward me. His green eyes stay locked on my face like he can't look away. I can't tell what he's thinking or what this means, but my heart races away from me and my stomach flips and spins as hope courses through me.
"Oh." The kid reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small blue box, thrusting it in my direction. "I'm supposed to give you this, too."
"Thank you," I manage to respond, though I'm not sure how because my mouth is bone dry. The box is small…like a ring box. I can't breathe. Holy crap. What is even happening right now?
"Have a good day." The kid squeezes past Dominic and disappears down the hall.
"Did you do this?" I ask Dominic when he stops in front of me, my gaze bouncing from him to the box in my hand and then to the flowers before making another circuit.
"Maybe." His lips twitch. "You always smell like flowers, but I don't know which ones. I might have gotten carried away and bought some of all of them."
This is why I love him. He's so sweet and ridiculous and caring.
"You going to open that and see what it is?" he asks, nodding toward the box in my hands.
"Maybe." I'm scared to open it. I don't know what's happening here and I'm freaking out a little bit. Why is he here? Because I'm quitting? Or is there another reason? I want him to be here because he loves me too, but I'm scared to hope.
He reaches out to move my hair away from my face. "You been crying since you left this morning, sweet girl?"
"Maybe," I whisper again, though I think we both know I have been. It's hard to miss my puffy eyes and the mascara smeared beneath them. My nose is probably all red too. Some women look cute and cuddly when they cry. I look like I had a bad reaction to shellfish.
Dominic doesn't seem to mind. He's got my cheek cupped in his big palm and he's smiling at me like he thinks I'm adorable or something.
"What are you doing here, Dominic?"
"I'm here because you're here, sunshine." He narrows his eyes on me, pinning me with a stare that says he's not very happy with me right now. "You ran away from me."
"I thought it was for the best."
"You thought wrong." He nods his head at the box in my hands again. "Open it."
I open it with shaking hands and my heart in my throat. It's not a ring, but a small key. Disappointment fills me even though I try not to let it. I pick up the key, frowning at it. "What's this for?"
"It goes to the safe in my office at home."
"Okay?" I stare at him, confused.
"You know my grandma was a millionaire?" he asks.
I shake my head because I didn't know that.
"She made a fortune when she found mineral deposits on her land after my grandfather died. She didn't want or need the money, so she gave most of it away to people in need. Said she already had everything she needed and then some and didn't see a reason to sit on a fat stack of cash when people in her community could use it more. Despite how much money she was worth when she died, she left me exactly three things. As far as I'm concerned, they're worth more than any amount of money ever could be."
"What three things?" I stare up at him, fascinated by this little tidbit of information. I know how important his grandma is to him. He keeps her picture on his desk. But I didn't know he got his generosity and compassion from her. It makes me love him even more.
"A one-hundred-year-old bottle of whiskey, the ring that goes in that box in your hand, and instruction on what I should do with both," he says, pulling his other hand out of his pocket and holding a note out to me. "These are the instructions."
I take the paper from him. It's old and well worn, like he's read it more than once. It smells a little like him too, as if he's touched it often enough to have transferred his scent to the delicate paper.
My dear boy,
The greatest things in this life aren't the things we own but the people we love. And love, like this whiskey, is better with time. It makes us stronger, braver, better versions of ourselves.
I had forty incredible years with your grandfather. He gave me your father, who gave me you. I wish with all my heart that your parents had lived long enough for you to know them and how much they loved one another. How much they loved you.
My greatest wish is for you to find that kind of deep, abiding love for yourself.
When you do, crack open this bottle and take a drink. When she agrees to marry you, you put this ring on her finger, and you drink again. And again when she gives you babies. Drink when you're bursting with love and overcome with joy. In your happiest moments with her, take a drink.
Celebrate her for the gift she is, dear boy, because I already know she's going to be incredible.
I am so proud of you.
Nan
"Dominic," I whisper, trying to fight off tears before I ruin his letter. It's the sweetest thing I've ever read in my life. I fold it up and hand it back to him. "This is incredible."
"She died when I was twenty-four," he says, slipping the note back into his pocket. "I've had that bottle of whiskey and her ring ever since." He cups my cheek in his palm again, using his thumb to wipe away a tear. "I took
