“Here.” He draws me close. My breath catches as he slowly gets down on one knee. A puddle of saltwater forms around him on the linoleum floor, and his leather loafers squeak with each step. My nervousness makes me want to laugh until he shows me what’s in the palm of his hand. I gasp in surprise. “I wanted to give you this, my mother’s ring. I thought I lost it, but I fought my way and found it again. I take it as a sign that I need to give us a fighting chance, too. We deserve another chance.”
“Marry me.” He holds out an old-fashioned emerald ring toward me. I hear Penelope’s snort and jealous murmurs. The ring is gorgeous with a large center stone surrounded by sparkling diamonds. The second I set my eyes on it, I’ve fallen in love with it, just like the man in front of me.
I wipe my tear-stricken face with my hands and listen.
“I know I am not perfect, but I know that I’ll do everything I can to love and cherish you. You’re beautiful, kind, and brave, you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I may not be perfect, but I’ll always try my hardest. I will love you and support you for the rest of our lives. Please make me the happiest man who ever lived.”
“Yes! Yes!” I answer as he slips the ring over my finger. With a satisfied grin, I leap into his arms for a long, lingering kiss.
Epilogue
Amelia
“Tommy? Tommy?” I call from the kitchen. Putting down the rolling pin and wiping my flour-covered hands on my apron, I poke my head into the living room. Not here. I check his room. Not here either.
“Clarissa, have you seen your brother?” I ask my younger child. She sucks her thumb and shakes her head. Her dark curls fall into her eyes. I pick her up in my arms. She is two years old and a small bundle of great fun, unlike her brother, who has started to reach a rebellious stage. I check all the rooms again and start to panic when the front door swings open.
“Look who I caught sneaking into our boat?” Fletcher walks in wearing foul-weather gear and heavy boots. He went on a deep-sea fishing trip with Uncle Pete this morning and wasn’t supposed to be back until after dark. He finally left his company in New York two years ago and we have settled into his parents’ old house. He spends his days working at the dive shop with Uncle Pete while I work as a nurse after I finished my training.
Our little boy trails behind him, with his little head lowered in shame and defeat.
“Oh, Tommy.” I hug my son tightly but then chastise him, “You gave me such a scare! Don’t you run off like that!”
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” he says sincerely and sweetly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He makes a little pout that makes his baby cheeks even rounder. “I just wanted to go fishing with Daddy and Grampa Pete.” He is at the age where he worships his father and wants to do everything with him. Fletcher normally takes the boy along on his fishing trips, but this one was just too lengthy and too dangerous for a young child.
“No worries, boss.” Fletcher ruffles the boy’s dark hair that he got from his father. “I’ll take you on the rowboat tomorrow.”
“Really?” Tommy beams, showing the gap in his front teeth where he just lost his baby teeth.
“At five in the morning.” His father gives him a devious grin.
“Oh, no!” The poor boy comically covers his mouth with his little hands and exaggerates his face.
“Oh, no!” His baby sister copies his gestures and echoes him. We laugh in unison.
Since Fletcher’s fishing trip is cut short, he joins us for dinner with my mom. She lives in her own little house with a garden down the road that we have bought for her. When I say “we” I mean both Fletcher and me. I pay my full share of the expenses and even though it is nice to know that we always have his money to fall back on if we ever need it, it is invigorating to have my own career and income.
When we show up with the cherry pie I’ve made, Mom greets us and straightens from hunching over her little garden. Her knees are covered in dirt and she is holding a small shovel in her hand. With the help of a special brace and a lot of hard work, she can now walk a little on her own.
“Here comes the airplane!” Mom sends a spoonful of peas into Clarissa’s waiting mouth. The toddler munches happily on the vegetables. She then turns to her other grandchild and helps Tommy cut his steak into smaller pieces.
A lot of our dinner conversation is about our children, and some of it is about my father. With Fletcher’s help, my mom has finally brought charges against the man. It became a huge scandal and an ongoing slew of legal battles for him. Many people, former employees, work colleagues, and even social acquaintances, came out of the woodwork and sued my father while supporting all of Mom’s claims. Overnight, his board fired him and his media empire was taken away from him. Now he knows what it feels like to be hunted by a pack of wolves.
Since none of these lawsuits concern us anymore, we have stopped following them. From time to time, Fletcher keeps us up-to-date about what is happening.
“He has lost the last of his civil trials. He has lost everything, and he is going to be in jail for a long time,” Fletcher states.
I grab the paper from him. There is a picture of the man, much older than I remember, flanked by his lawyers. He looks tired and alone. Serves him right.
Mom glances over the headline silently and turns back to
