Chapter 10
It was Sunday again.
Six months to the day since Ryan had pushed Grandma down the stairs, since Lily had screamed those terrible words, since my whole world had fallen apart.
The house smelled like lavender and Grandma’s peach pie, the same as it had that day. The sun was shining through the sunroom windows, warm and bright. Biscuit was chasing a butterfly around the backyard, barking his head off. Lily was sitting on the floor, coloring, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.
Grandma was in her wheelchair by the window, peeling peaches, her hands steady now, no sign of the injury that had almost killed her. She was walking with a cane now, short distances, and the doctor said she’d be back to normal by summer. Margaret was at the counter, mixing the pie crust, flour dusted on her cheek, singing along to the old jazz station she loved.
Daniel came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and kissed my cheek.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” he said, his voice soft. “Outside.”
I nodded, following him out onto the back porch. The grass was green, the roses Grandma loved were in full bloom, pink and red and white. The fountain in the middle of the yard was splashing, the sound soft and calming.
Daniel turned to face me.
He took a deep breath, then got down on one knee.
My hand flew to my mouth.
He pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal the same simple diamond ring he’d given me when we first got engaged, cleaned and polished, sparkling in the sun.
“Vivian Carter Hale,” he said, his voice steady, his eyes glistening. “I messed up. Bad. I doubted you. I let other people’s lies get in my head. I almost lost the best thing that ever happened to me. But you gave me a second chance. You gave us a second chance. And I promise you, I will spend every single day for the rest of my life making it up to you. I will love you. I will trust you. I will fight for you. No matter what. No one will ever come between us again. Not my mother. Not Ryan. Not anyone.”
He paused, swallowing hard.
“Will you marry me? Again? Properly this time. No lies. No secrets. Just us. And Lily. And our family.”
I was crying so hard I could barely speak. I nodded, over and over, throwing my arms around his neck.
“Yes,” I said, sobbing into his shoulder. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”
He slipped the ring onto my finger, then stood up, kissing me long and slow, the sun warm on our faces.
The back door slid open.
Lily ran out, screaming, followed by Grandma, Margaret, and Lila, who’d flown in from New York for the weekend. They were all holding balloons and confetti poppers, cheering. Lily ran into our arms, squeezing us both as tight as she could.
“Does this mean you’re gonna be my mommy forever?” she asked, grinning up at me.
“Forever and ever,” I said, kissing her forehead.
We had the ceremony an hour later, right there in the backyard, under the big oak tree where we’d said our first vows eight years before. The same judge who’d married us the first time came over, in his shirtsleeves, holding his old leather bible. It wasn’t big or fancy. There were no five hundred guests, no designer dress, no ten-thousand-dollar cake. Just us. Our family. The people who loved us.
Grandma rolled herself up to the front, giving me away. “I’ve always thought of you as my own granddaughter,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Now it’s official.”
Margaret was my maid of honor. She cried through the whole ceremony, dabbing her eyes with a linen handkerchief. Lila was the bridesmaid, taking a hundred photos with her phone. Lily was the flower girl, throwing rose petals everywhere, even on the judge’s shoes.
When the judge said “You may kiss the bride,” the whole family cheered. Biscuit ran over, barking, jumping up on us, trying to join in.
We had pie and champagne after, sitting at the big wooden table on the patio. Lily drew us a picture, all of us holding hands under a rainbow, with Biscuit and the rabbit and a big heart that said “MY FAMILY.” We taped it to the fridge right in the middle, where everyone could see it.
That night, after everyone else had gone to bed, Daniel and I sat on the porch swing, holding hands, watching the stars come out. Lily was asleep in our bed, sandwiched between us, Biscuit curled up at her feet. The house was quiet, peaceful, no ghosts left to haunt the halls.
I leaned my head on Daniel’s shoulder, staring at the ring on my finger.
“Remember that day?” I said, quiet. “When everything fell apart? I thought I’d never be happy again. I thought I’d lost everything.”
Daniel kissed the top of my head.
“I know,” he said. “But we didn’t lose anything. We found something better. We found out how strong we are. How strong our family is. Nothing can break us now. Not ever.”
I looked up at the stars, bright and clear over the Dallas skyline.
He was right.
We’d been through hell. We’d been tested, broken, torn apart. But we’d put ourselves back together. Stronger. Closer. Better.
Ryan was in prison, where he belonged. Justice had been served. The lies were gone. The fear was gone.
All that was left was love.
Pure, simple, unshakable love.
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I was safe. I was loved. I was home.
And nothing would ever take that away from me again.
