“Completely,” Brandon says without hesitation. “I fell in love with Stella exactly as she is. I love that she's ambitious, driven, and passionate about her work. I'd never want to change that.”
“Even if it means late nights and travel and putting work first sometimes?”
“Especially then. Caroline, your daughter is extraordinary at what she does. The world needs more women like her in positions of power, not fewer.”
My mother is quiet for a long moment, and I can see her adjusting her expectations in real time. Finally, she reaches over and squeezes Brandon's arm.
“I can see why she chose you,” she says softly. “You really do see her, don't you?”
“Every day,” he replies as his eyes find mine.
My mother nods, and something settles in her expression. “Well then. I suppose I need to adjust my dreams of garden parties and Junior League meetings.”
“You could always dream about film premieres and award shows instead,” I suggest tentatively.
She laughs, and for the first time tonight, it sounds completely genuine. “You know what? I think I could get used to that.”
The tension breaks, and conversation resumes around us. My father claps Brandon on the shoulder with obvious approval, and my mother wraps me in a hug, her way of apologizing and approving of me.
“Want to get some air?” Brandon murmurs in my ear a few minutes later.
I nod, and he leads me to the hotel's terrace. The night air is warm, and the city lights twinkle below us.
“I'm proud of you,” he says as soon as we're alone. “That took real courage.”
“It felt good. Scary, but good.” I lean against the railing, processing what just happened. “I can't believe I actually stood up to her.”
“I can. You're the strongest person I know.”
He moves to stand behind me and wraps his good arm around my waist. We stand like that for a moment, looking out over the city, both of us processing the evening.
“Stella,” he says finally, his voice serious. “I have something to ask you.”
I turn in his arms, studying his face. “What is it?”
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a key. “There's a two-bedroom opening up in our building. Better kitchen, bigger living space, amazing view of the city.”
My heart starts racing as I realize what he's asking.
“Move in with me,” he says, his eyes intense. “Not across the hall, not as neighbors who sometimes sleep over. Really move in. Build something together.”
“Brandon.”
“I know it's a big step.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I don't want to waste any more time. I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night. I want to merge our lives completely.”
I look at this man who sees exactly who I am and loves me for it, who supports my dreams instead of asking me to shrink them, who just watched me have the hardest conversation of my life and couldn't be prouder.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, absolutely yes.”
epilogue
. . .
Brandon
The Grimaldi familyFourth of July party in the Hamptons is in full swing, and I'm watching Stella charm my entire extended family like she was born to it.
She's sitting on the deck with my grandmother, listening intently to stories about the old neighborhood in Brooklyn, while my youngest nephew shows her his collection of seashells.
