Dominic
The following Thursday,Ophelia is laid to rest. Cecily helped her father implement Ophelia's plans for her memorial, and to nobody's surprise, it's heavily attended. Cecily addresses the attendees, her voice clear as a bell until she recounts the time she and Ophelia were at a bookstore when Cecily was thirteen. "I had an unfortunate haircut, and a boy made fun of me. Grandma threw a book at him. She literally threw a hardback at his head." Cecily sniffles, but a smile emerges through her tears. "And then, when he was looking at her with astonishment, she told him"—Cecily laughs—"to go clean the cheese off his weasel." She laughs harder now, and other people join in. "I asked her what that meant, and she said, "I don't flipping know, but my dad used to say it and it's disgusting. Always made me feel gross inside, and I'd like to make that little shit feel gross inside, too." She put her arm around me and told me nobody messed with me on her watch." Cue the tears. From Cecily, and everyone else.
Afterward, Cecily is inundated with people she doesn't know telling her the funny things Ophelia said to them over the years.
Duke's friends from Olive Township attend, and they hug Cecily and tell me stories about her as a kid. Mallory, the wife ofone of Duke's friends, tells me she is also Cecily's client, and that Cecily is responsible for getting her true crime podcast picked up by a network. I'm not surprised. My wife is creative and witty.
The Hampton family stays until the last person leaves. In the morning, Cecily's parents will return with Duke to Olive Township, and Glenn will begin the process of officially retiring from Hampton & Co. Around the same time, Cecily and I will head to the airport to catch our flight to New York.
Glenn calls Cecily that evening while we're packing for our trip.
"Hi, Dad," she says, and I know she's getting used to sounding casual when he calls. Baby steps.
"Oh." She drops onto the bed, right on the pile of clothes she's laid out. "Are you sure?"
Getting her attention with a hand on her arm, I silently ask if everything is alright.
She nods, but her eyes are wide. Shocked.
"Yeah," she says, breathless. "Yes. We'll meet with him when we get back."
Cecily hangs up. "My grandma left her house to me."
I sit down on my clothes, too. "How do you feel about that?"
Cecily faces me, tucking a knee up onto the bed. "I...I don't know. I wasn't expecting anything. I hadn't thought about it, honestly. If I had thought about it, I would've assumed it was all going to my dad, or sitting in a trust or, I don't know, the local cat shelter." Cecily presses her fingers to her eyes. "It might sound weird, but it was easy to forget my grandma was wealthy. She never acted like it. Whatever it means to act like it."
That makes sense. When I was a kid, I pictured wealth as diamond bezel watches, private jets, and tigers on leashes. Now I understand those are displays of wealth, and true wealth is something different.
"Cecily, I want you to know that I would live with you in a shoebox. Or you can move into the house your grandma left you, and I will get an apartment if that's what you think is best for us while we date."
Cecily's face crumples in horror. "Why in the world would you get an apartment?"
I like the strength of her objection. I like itverymuch. "Believe it or not, I've never been in this situation before. I just want you to know that all paths are welcome, as long as they end at the same point."
Cecily fingers a button on my shirt. "And what point is that?"
"You and I, married."
She smirks and taps the button. "We already are." Using her palm, she pushes me to lie flat on the bed. Her face appears above me, backlit by the overhead light. "In fact, I think we should skip all the dating nonsense and be married."
"Is that right?"
She nods, her finger trailing over my chest. "I love you, Dom." The words are soft, a reverent claim. "But you knew that."
"Ihoped." And now that I know, I could soar. Cecily doesn't love easily, making these words from her exponentially sweeter.
Cecily cradles my face, tipping it up to hers. "I love you, Dominic." This time the words have strength, as if she has already become used to them. "What started as the worst mistake of my life turned out to be the best choice I've ever made."
My thumb runs over her lower lip, tugging gently. "You are by far my favorite bad choice."
She grins and wiggles her eyebrows.
I find her left hand and cover it with my own. "I've noticed your ring finger is bare."
"Very bare," she agrees, pouting playfully. "Like yours."
"Let's remedy that."
