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Swallowing hard, I nod.
His hand finds mine, the warmth there reassuring, grounding.
“Your mom will always be taken care of,” I whisper. I’d never considered anything else.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I check it without thinking. The screen says mom and I instantly begin to worry. I tilt the device toward him, and he nods.
“Go ahead. This can wait.” With that, he rises and settles on the picnic bench as I move away and answer.
“Hello?” I say, worried and praying she didn’t have another heart attack.
“Someone paid our medical debts,” mom says, her tone disbelieving. “Did you do this?”
I shake my head, then answer. “No.”
“I made a call to see why they hadn’t pulled payment, and they told me there was no remaining balance.”
Puzzled, I glance at Fredrick. His lips move as if he’s talking to himself and can’t believe what he just said. I can’t help but smile at his antics.
“I have no idea,” I say.
“Maybe ask Fredrick?” Alex says loudly, and I realize I’m on speakerphone. “By the way, he signed over partial ownership of the club to me.” I hear the excitement in his voice, and I smile.
“That's... that's incredible, Alex,” I say.
“Sure, except he gave Emma part, too.” A note of sibling annoyance fills his voice, and I want to laugh.
“Emma wanted that?” I ask, instead.
“Of course, I did. He and I talked about it... after I left.”Her voice shifts from excited to worried, but I’m not upset.
Joy for them swirls within me, but I realize I’m making Fredrick wait, and it’s not an emergency pulling me away. I’m being cruel.
I say quick goodbyes and get off the phone before turning to him. It’s time to be as honest as he’s being. “Fredrick...”
He glances at me, a hopeful smile crossing his handsome face. “Yes?”
“I'm pregnant.”
His head rears back, shock on his face as if that’s the last thing he ever expected me to say. A spectrum of emotions cross his face—shock, confusion, fear, excitement, joy. Then, a grin breaks through. He rushes toward me, wrapping me up in a hug and spinning me around before carefully placing me on my feet.
“I'm so happy,” he says into my ear.
But he pulls back suddenly, eyes searching mine. “Unless you're not... If you're not, I'll support whatever you decide.” There’s pain in his voice, but he keeps it in check.
His answer leaves me breathless. And love—the real kind, the kind that fights and forgives—washes over me. All my fears wash away, and I’m happy.
I’ve heard what I needed to hear, and I know what choice I want to make.
He’s still watching me, an unsure gleam in his eyes.
“My answer is yes,” I say.
He doesn't seem to register my response.
So, I try again. “I want to marry you.”
His face lights up, like the sun breaking through dark thunder clouds during a storm. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small velvet box.
