Chapter 26

ELIZABETH

I spend about an hour downstairs seeping tea and eating mango pudding before making up my mind and heading upstairs.

He’s had enough time to figure this thing out.

He hasn’t called me or sent me a message, which is worrying but expected.

I don’t know how he is right now. Is he angry with me? Furious with Anna? Still dismissing my theory?

There is not much to dismiss. The woman was pretty clear in her writings. It was a confession of sorts.

She didn’t want anything from him. She must’ve felt burdened by the secret that she was carrying in her heart.

And she convinced Eleanor to keep it a secret after entrusting her with this private information.

Did Eleanor peek inside the way I did?

I don’t think so. Had she done that, she would’ve told him.

Did Sylvia look inside the way I did? I don’t think so. Had she done that, she would’ve felt a pinch of guilt.

These are serious matters.

Sylvia knows about David, and Eleanor and Anna. About their lives from before David became David Moore.

Maybe she had a hunch that day that the information would be more useful in my hands than hers. I don’t know what made her offer me that stack of letters.

Whatever it was, it worked, didn’t it?

Women, and sometimes men, have a way of following their gut blindly. I just did it, and look what I found.

How he takes it is anyone’s guess.

The thing is, I had to come clean.

There was no way I would belong to the line of people who put these people’s privacy above everything else and let something so important, so significant, slip through the branches of time.

David has the right to know this.

He had the right to know that when it happened––almost twenty years ago.

His life would’ve been different had he known that.

He would’ve made different choices.

He wouldn’t have married Samantha, met Rain, and possibly me.

Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t have served me well, but that’s life. There are winners and losers.

The thing is, Julie has the right to know this too.

She is no longer the girl who lost her parents in a car accident. She has a father. A father who cared for her even when he didn't know he was her father.

Sometimes, the resistance in our body is stronger than the glaring evidence.

How could he not see that?

How could he see that?

He didn’t want to fool himself into believing the woman who rejected him gave birth to his daughter.

The thought gives me pause.

It also fuels my determination to go upstairs and face the truth, whatever it may be.

I reach the bank of elevators and hop into the first one available, sunk in thought.

Moments later, I walk onto our floor and follow the path to our suite.

I hope he’s still here.

I hope he didn’t give up on me.

The door opens under my hand, and my eyes scan the first room.

He’s not here, but the door to the master bedroom is open, and music wafts through the air.

I take my shoes off and walk in that direction.

Once I reach the door, I stop and look inside.

He lies on the bed, his back propped against the headboard, his shirt open, a drink next to him on the nightstand, his tie undone, dangling from his neck.

There is no sign of Anna’s letters.

But my laptop is open––as I left it––and my heart stops.

Oh… No.

He saw the letter.

The one I wrote to him.

Like Anna, I didn’t write it for him.

Too late, I guess.

The state he’s in tells me that he's read it.

What is it about this man?

And why do women feel the need to write to him and about him?

Rain wrote an entire book.

His eyes come to me. Tired, heavy, a dark ocean simmering in them.

I stop myself from asking anything related to the news.

It’s been a lot to go through for him and me.

“You want me to sleep in the other room.”

He clicks his tongue.

“No. Come here.”

He taps the mattress beside him. I walk to the bed and sit on the covers next to him.

Making an effort, he shifts his gloomy expression for me.

He flicks his chin to my laptop.

“When did you write this?” He asks quietly.

“A while ago. I was so desperate I couldn’t put anything down that I wrote this piece one evening.”

A sad smile tugs at his lips.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs while I study his eyes.

“And sad. That’s how it came to me.”

He tips his eyes down, his hand stroking mine gently.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, and his new voice brings me some relief.

At least we’re back to our old routine.

“I ate something downstairs.”

“I mean food. Real food.”

He picks up his phone, ready to order.

“I wanted to invite you out,” he goes on. “We can still do that, but maybe you want to stay in?”

He wants to stay in. And frankly, I don’t mind that either. I prefer the intimacy of our suite.

“It sounds good to me.”

He orders food without asking me if I want anything in particular. But everything he orders is to my liking.

He knows me by now.

The woman tells him the food will arrive shortly before he puts his phone down.

He doesn’t move, so I wait.

A few moments pass, his eyes evading mine, and then a faint smile crawls to his lips.

“I had some big plans for us today, Elizabeth.”

He brings his eyes to me, and my heart falls backward.

He sets his drink on the nightstand, and my eyes follow his hand when I notice a beautiful dark blue velvet box with golden trim next to his glass.

It looks expensive.

It looks important. It also looks irrelevant under the current circumstances.

“And I was kind of nervous about the whole story.”

He picks up the box, and my eyes go wide with angst.

“I was afraid you’d say no to… Not to me as much as the idea.”

A soft smile curves his lips.

“It just happens that Julie…”

He stops, fighting his emotions back.

“Julie hates the idea of people getting married. Not in general,” he says, regaining his composure. "But when it comes to her. And I thought… Because why the hell not… You're only slightly older than her, so you might hate the idea, too.”

I have to bite my lip hard to stop my chin from trembling.

“So I was happy. And anxious. And also nervous that you might say no to me. And then…” he says, setting the jewelry box down. “My life changed within seconds. And everything I thought I knew about my life turned out to be a lie. The most of which was me––the man I thought I was. All this time, I've been a fraud, trying so hard to live someone else’s life. Someone I created to close the wound I carried around. Back in time, I couldn’t imagine living other than how I lived with you these past few days. I didn’t want a lot of things, but I learned to like them. So that ploy of mine––impersonating someone else––has gone to waste, and with it went my fears that you might say no to me. My fears were part of who I thought I was. Not who I actually am. So whether you say yes or no to me, I can live with it.”

His fingers rest on the blue box.

He ponders for a few moments.

“I’ll take a paternity test when we get back. I already talked to Miranda but asked her to let me do the talking when we return. I don’t want Julie to freak out. I owe her that much.”

He locks his jaw and looks down.

“I would be extremely honored if you agreed to be my wife. I’m sorry… I can’t say I want to be your boyfriend because I don’t.”

His eyes find mine while I struggle to keep my tears at bay.

“I want to be your husband. And if you say yes, you’ll be Julie’s stepmother. So that’s that,” he adds with a tinge of humor.

A few moments pass.

“Which one is it?” he asks.

“I think it’s yes.”

He flashes a smile.

“You’re not sure?”

“I am sure.”

He watches me stoically fight my tears.

“So you’re not angry with me?” I ask in a faint voice.

“Why would I be?” he says, opening the box and retrieving a diamond ring.

He takes my hand.

“You just gave me a daughter. A grown-up daughter to that,” he adds humorously.

Luckily, he opens his arms, and I get to hide in his warm hug, kissing his lips with all my love.

ELIZABETH

My engagement ring sparkles under the light streaming from the ceiling.

The reception desk area is tidy, with only a couple other people waiting outside beside me.

My eyes often go to the window.

Our town has never looked so beautiful.

Why did it have to be today?

Well, it’s not like we planned for this.

My phone pings with messages from my mother.

From Chloe.

She’ll finish work, run home, change her clothes, and join us later.

My mother doesn’t know what to wear.

We exchange messages about her options while my heart jumps every time a door opens, the phone rings at the receptionist’s desk, or I hear a voice.

They’ve been inside for a while.

He wanted to get the paternity test results and settle the legal issues fast, and here we are.

Chloe is on her way, and my mother is now all set.

I’m already dressed for the party. I wear a long sweater dress and a short coat.

The door opens, and David’s voice drifts through the air.

He holds an envelope while Julie walks by his side.

She’s dressed for the party too. Long, wide pants and a fluffy winter jacket. Her long pink hair frames her face.

A timid smile sits on her lips.

The adjustment is considerable for all of us.

David is by far the most adjusted.

He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him.

He drapes his arm around Julie’s shoulders and places a kiss on top of her head. Many things haven’t changed between them, except for the biggest one of all.

She has a father.

One I wish I had.

But I’m not doing that bad myself.

“It’s official,” he says.

Julie smiles.

“I still can’t get used to this,” she sincerely admits.

“You will. I’m sure you will,” I say before moving my eyes to him.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes, I am.”

“Good. I can’t wait to get there. I’m hungry,” he says, taking my hand.

He kisses my lips before walking both of us to his car outside.

The streets are crawling with people. Some buying gifts. Others picking up a Christmas tree. Some, like us, rushing to a party.

The holiday season is in full swing, and everybody got into the holiday spirit.

We climb into David’s car. I sit in the front. Julie sits in the back between our seats.

We pick up Miranda first and then my mother while Chloe takes a cab.

We all arrive at about the same time.

A handful of cars are parked in front of Sexton’s residence. Their house is lit like a Christmas tree.

Thea and Ed arrive, and then Chloe.

And we all wait in the front so we can all get together before walking in.

By now, the news has made the rounds, and everybody knows that David and I are engaged. I haven’t had the chance to talk to anyone extensively, but in a way, it’s better that way.

Life flows impetuously, and we flow with it.

David squeezes my hand gently as the people inside the house walk outside to witness the official lighting of the Christmas tree.

Everybody looks up at the huge tree adorned with lights, Christmas balls, and tinsel garlands.

The lights turn on, and people cheer.

But my eyes are on him. And his eyes are on me.

“Next year, we’ll organize a party like this,” he says, "and invite everybody.”

“I can’t wait,” I say, my eyes blurry with happy tears.

He tilts his lips down and kisses me.

“I truly lucked out with you, Elizabeth,” he says, smiling.

“I can say the same thing. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

Some people start cheering near us, and as we look around, we notice Thea and Ed. Dahlia and Lex. Eve and Thiago. And Chloe, who wags her finger at me playfully.

My mother. Miranda. And Julie.

And Rain.

They all look at us.

“Men, it took you a while,” James says, grinning and patting David on his back. “Congratulations to both of you,” he says, squeezing my shoulder. “Let’s get this party started,” he says, and people cheer again before we all head inside, our hearts filled with joy.

This will be the best Christmas ever.

I hope you enjoyed Elizabeth and David’s love story.

As always, reviews/ratings are highly appreciated, as is spreading the word about my books.