Chapter 13 - The Second Proposal
It wasn't the divorce petition.
Fay had written across the voided marriage contract:
I CHOOSE YOU THIS TIME.
Conrad stared.
“You vandalized a legal document.”
“Focus.”
He looked up.
Fay smiled nervously.
“I don't want the marriage we had.”
His expression tightened.
“I want a new one.”
He said nothing.
“One where you tell me the truth.”
“Yes.”
“One where you don't send employees to learn my dress size.”
“Absolutely.”
“One where I can tell you you're being unbearable.”
“You already do.”
“Without armed witnesses.”
“Negotiable.”
She laughed.
Then became serious.
“And one where you don't decide you're unworthy of me every time you remember your past.”
That hit him.
Fay approached.
“You did bad things.”
“Yes.”
“You hurt people.”
“Yes.”
“You're responsible for repairing what you can.”
“Yes.”
“But I am not going to spend the rest of our life punishing you for becoming better.”
His eyes shone.
Fay had never seen Conrad cry.
He seemed determined to preserve that record.
“Say something.”
“I love you.”
“Better.”
He kissed her.
Three months later, Conrad proposed.
Properly.
Unfortunately, he attempted extravagance.
He rented an entire rooftop.
Fay discovered the plan early because Luca was terrible at lying to her.
She canceled the orchestra.
Kept the food.
When Conrad arrived, he found Fay eating pasta at a table meant for twenty.
“You ruined my proposal.”
“I improved it.”
He sat.
“I had a speech.”
“You can still give it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You mocked my violinists.”
“There were twelve.”
“It was tasteful.”
“It was an ambush.”
Conrad sighed.
Then removed the ring.
No speech.
He took her hand.
“Fay Donahue Harwick, will you marry me when you don't have to?”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
The second wedding would be small.
Family.
Friends.
Rosa.
Luca.
Claire.
Kathleen.
Even Elena, Conrad's mother, who announced she would personally supervise catering because the first wedding's chicken had been dry.
For once, the biggest argument involved flowers.
Then Luca arrived at Conrad's office carrying an envelope.
No return address.
Conrad opened it.
A photograph of Victor in custody.
Taken yesterday.
On the back:
HE WON'T MAKE IT TO TRIAL.
Conrad immediately called federal investigators.
Victor was alive.
Secure.
No incident.
Still, Conrad felt uneasy.
At dinner, he told Fay.
All of it.
Immediately.
She noticed.
“You told me before trying to fix it.”
“I can learn.”
“I'm impressed.”
“Don't sound surprised.”
The next morning, news broke.
Victor Harwick had suffered a medical emergency.
He was transported under guard.
During transport, the ambulance crashed.
Victor disappeared.
Conrad read the report in silence.
Fay found him in the study.
“Tell me.”
He did.
No hiding.
No protection through ignorance.
Together they called Luca.
Security increased.
The wedding remained scheduled.
“Cancel it,” Conrad said.
“No.”
“Fay.”
“I postponed my life for other people's crimes long enough.”
“He may come for us.”
“Then he'll find us married.”
“That isn't reassuring.”
“It was supposed to be romantic.”
He almost smiled.
The wedding morning arrived.
Fay wore ivory.
Not white because tradition had already had its chance.
Rosa fitted the gown herself.
It celebrated Fay's body rather than disguising it.
When Fay looked in the mirror, she did not search for flaws.
That was the victory nobody else could see.
Claire adjusted her veil.
Kathleen cried.
“You look beautiful.”
Fay met her mother's eyes.
“I feel beautiful.”
That mattered more.
Downstairs, Conrad waited.
Then Luca entered the dressing room.
His face told Fay something was wrong.
“What?”
“We found Victor.”
“Where?”
Luca looked toward the window.
“Here.”
A knock sounded at the door.
Kathleen went pale.
Claire grabbed Fay's hand.
May you like
The handle slowly turned.
And Victor Harwick stepped inside holding a gun.
