“I… thank you.” We hadn’t spoken since I’d moved out of Gabe’s place with Franco loosely in my possession. There was no need for interaction, and I was more than happy to keep it to a minimum. He would have been invited in order to not ruffle any feathers, but he’d kept his distance while Luc was with me.
“I have a gift for you. A little something to celebrate you turning 21.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised and suspicious. Nothing came without a price. “You really shouldn’t have.”
Gabe reached into his jacket and pulled out a long slender box. He snapped it open to display a gleaming tennis bracelet. My breath caught at the sight of it before I found the power of speech. “Gabe, I can’t accept that.” It wasn’t just that I couldn’t, but I wouldn’t. The more expensive the gift, the more indebted I was, and I didn’t plan to bind myself to a Moretti in any way with everything that was on the horizon.
“Of course, you can. It’s a gift,” he told me smoothly, then added, “You never truly gave me an answer to my offer.”
This gift wasn’t for my birthday. This gift was a not so subtle reminder from Gabriel about what life could be like if I chose to take him up on his offer. It was a cold and empty gesture that reminded me of everything I didn’t desire in my life. The fact that I’d moved back in with Luc hadn’t deterred him. Living with someone was not concrete evidence for a lasting relationship. We’d not made a show of ourselves in public, thanks to the stresses of moving into the new house, and in the privacy we’d created Gabe still saw an opening for his bid for power that didn’t exist.
I reached out and firmly closed the lid of the box, pushing it back toward his chest. “I can’t be bought.”
“Mia!” I snatched my hand away from Gabe and turned to see Dante taking large strides in our direction. A grin was plastered on his face and his tie was hanging loosely from his neck.
“How is anyone meant to believe you’re respectable?” I asked, fixing the tie as he reached us.
“I think it’s sweet you’re trying to fix a reputation I took my whole life ruining,” he laughed. “Come with me.” He took my hand and led me toward the bar, blatantly ignoring Gabe. When I glanced over my shoulder, Gabe was slipping the box back into his jacket, eyes still on me.
Turning my head away, I looked up at Dante. “Why do I need to be here? You know I can’t drink.”
“More’s the pity,” he mumbled. Dante had been the sole reason behind my drunken antics at the engagement party. He was lethal with a bottle in his hand and mischievous intentions in his heart.
“Answer my question.”
“Cake!”
As if on cue, a large three-tiered cake was brought out and placed on the bar. Luc beamed as he joined me once again. The cake was dressed in dark black fondant with pomegranate decoration and candles dotted around the edges. A thunderous rendition of ‘Happy birthday’ began with Dante leading the offkey recital while my cheeks burned from the embarrassment of being in the spotlight.
“Make a wish,” Luc instructed as the singing came to an end. What would I wish for? What did I desire above all else for the next year? I screwed my eyes shut tight before I thought about my baby and Luc and Dante and I wished with every part of my being that whatever my family would face, that we would be safe and come out on top. I blew out the candles and opened my eyes to a round of applause before Luc wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” I replied, taking in all the details. “Persephone would approve. She’d be joining Hades back in the Underworld right about now.”
“That all depends on if she says yes.” Luc removed his arms from around me, letting the cold seep into the space.
“What do you…?” I asked, turning around, but the question died in my throat because Luc was down on one knee, a sight I was certain I wouldn’t see again in my lifetime. “What are you doing?”
“I love you and I’ve seen what life is like without you and it’s a reality I don’t ever want to face again. I’m asking you to let us draw a line under everything that’s happened, Mia. I’m asking you to trust in me just like I will trust in you, and to become my wife. I want my family more than anything—my wife and my son. Will you allow me to have that? Will you marry me?”
People had stopped their conversations to observe the moment. Someone had turned down the music as they waited for my answer. I knew the first time Luc had gotten down on one knee that it had been a big deal, and that had been in front of our friends. This time, Luc was asking in front of most of the family. He was making a statement to more than just me, but the sentiment remained the same. Regardless of everything that had happened between us, Luc still wished to tie his life to mine for as long as we lived.
And that was all I wanted too. Nothing had changed the way I felt about him. Luc still gave me butterflies with a single look and aggravated me with his stubborn and demanding ways. Life without him had lost vibrance, and being back together had jump started my heart. Grief and panic had won, and I’d given in to their sinister whispers, but there would be nothing that could pull us apart again.
“Yes,” I told him. My induction into the Foster family was long overdue. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Luc shot to his feet and pressed his lips against mine. My hands fisted his jacket to keep me steady on my feet as I felt the heady rush that always occurred when we kissed. Through the thundering of blood in my ears, I could hear applause again and the shrill whistle that must have come from Dante. When we broke apart, Luc rested his head against mine. “Thank you.”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small ring box. I expected to see my old engagement ring, however, when Luc opened it a more extravagant band stared back at me. “If you’re in, you’re all in,” he said, seeing my expression. No more compromise. No more modesty. Plucking the ring from its resting place, Luc took my hand and attempted to slide it onto my finger.
I couldn’t help but laugh as he struggled. “I’ve packed on a little weight since the last time you did that.”
“This kid of ours is already a handful.”
“Well, he’s a Foster so we shouldn’t expect anything less.”
A smile tugged at his lips and then Luc raised his hands and unclasped the chain he wore around his neck. It held a pendant of Saint Jude. I remembered asking about it once when Luc and I first crossed the line away from friendship, and he’d laughed and told me the patron saint of lost causes had been a gift from Dante’s mother. He slid the ring onto it before placing it around my throat and fastening it once again.
“We’re Fosters,” Luc told me, his eyes searching mine. I could hear the question in the statement. He still struggled, wavered every day in knowing who he was.
