Chapter 9 - The Question He Refused to Ask MeAnother year passed.
Ellie turned two.
Alexander never moved back into the mansion.
Neither did I.
We sold it.
The place had once represented everything glamorous about our marriage.
Eventually, it represented a version of us neither wanted anymore.
We bought nothing together.
Not immediately.
Instead, I moved into a brownstone in Lincoln Park.
Alexander remained in his townhouse nearby.
Ellie had bedrooms in both.
Some nights Alexander stayed at mine.
Some nights I stayed at his.
We stopped trying to label every step.
He returned to Moretti International as executive chairman eighteen months after his removal.
This time, the board imposed stronger independent oversight.
Alexander accepted it.
He also sold the corporate jet he had used during the affair.
When I asked why, he said, “I hated looking at it.”
I understood.
Sophia eventually settled the civil claims against her.
She issued a retraction regarding me.
I never saw her again.
I did not need revenge.
The best revenge was discovering that she had become irrelevant to my life.
My relationship with Dad healed too.
He adored Ellie.
And, although he would rather die than admit it, he gradually developed something resembling respect for Alexander.
They still argued constantly.
Usually about business.
Sometimes about golf.
Once about the correct way to assemble a toddler bicycle.
Dad insisted Alexander was reading the instructions incorrectly.
Alexander insisted Dad was holding them upside down.
I recorded the entire thing.
Then came Ellie’s second birthday.
We held it in my backyard.
Nothing enormous.
Family.
Friends.
A ridiculous pink cake.
Too many balloons.
Alexander spent an hour wearing a plastic crown because Ellie demanded it.
I stood beneath the string lights watching him chase her across the lawn.
My former husband.
My current partner.
The father of my daughter.
The man who broke my heart.
The man who spent two years helping rebuild it without ever demanding ownership of the repaired version.
Dad walked beside me.
“He has a ring.”
I nearly dropped my drink.
“What?”
Dad took a sip of wine.
“Alexander.”
My heart stopped.
“He has a ring.”
“How do you know?”
“He asked me something.”
My eyes widened.
“He asked your permission?”
Dad looked disgusted.
“No. You are thirty-two years old. You do not require my permission.”
“Then what?”
“He asked whether your mother’s engagement ring still existed.”
I could not breathe.
My mother’s ring.
A simple oval diamond Dad had kept locked away after she died.
“You gave it to him?”
“No.”
Relief and disappointment arrived simultaneously.
Dad noticed.
Interesting.
“Why not?”
I asked.
“Because I told him if he wanted it, he had to ask you.”
I looked across the yard.
Alexander was helping Ellie open a present.
“He hasn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Dad shrugged.
“Ask him.”
I did.
That evening, after everyone left and Ellie fell asleep surrounded by new toys, Alexander and I cleaned the kitchen.
I watched him rinse plates.
“You have a ring.”
The plate nearly slipped from his hands.
I smiled.
“Dad told me.”
Alexander muttered something inappropriate.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Why haven’t you asked?”
He turned off the water.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he dried his hands.
“Because you told me not to.”
“Two years ago.”
“You said no grand gestures. No marriage.”
“I said not then.”
“I remember the exact wording.”
“Of course you do.”
“I take rules seriously now.”
I leaned against the counter.
“Do you want to marry me?”
His eyes widened.
“Claire.”
“That is a question.”
“Yes.”
The answer came instantly.
“Yes, I want to marry you.”
My heart raced.
“Then why haven’t you asked?”
His expression softened.
“Because I already got to marry you once.”
I said nothing.
“And I treated it like once I had you, you were mine forever.”
He came closer.
“I don’t want another marriage because I’m afraid to lose you.”
Another step.
“I want it only if marriage is something that makes you feel freer with me, not more trapped.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“Alexander…”
“I have the ring.”
“Mom’s?”
“No.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Your father refused.”
I laughed.
Alexander smiled.
“I bought another one.”
“Where is it?”
He looked embarrassed.
“A safe.”
“Of course.”
“I considered carrying it.”
“And?”
“Your father told me I would become insufferable.”
“He was correct.”
Alexander laughed.
I stepped closer.
“If you asked me now…”
His smile disappeared.
“What?”
I touched his chest.
“If you asked me now, my answer might be different.”
He stared at me.
“Claire, do not say things like that unless you mean them.”
“I mean it.”
His breathing changed.
Then he stepped back.
“No.”
I stared.
“Excuse me?”
“No.”
“You’re rejecting my hypothetical acceptance?”
“Yes.”
I almost laughed.
“Why?”
“Because you are standing in a kitchen wearing cake frosting on your sleeve after an exhausting birthday party.”
“So?”
“You deserve a better proposal.”
“Rule Five.”
His face fell.
“No grand gestures.”
“Exactly.”
“This rule is becoming oppressive.”
I laughed.
He came closer again.
“I’m still not asking tonight.”
“Fine.”
“Are you angry?”
“A little.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Because now you get to wait.”
I punched his arm.
Alexander laughed.
Three weeks passed.
No proposal.
Four.
Nothing.
By week five, I considered murdering him.
Then one Sunday morning, Ellie climbed into my bed.
“Mommy.”
I opened my eyes.
“Hi, baby.”
“Daddy make pancakes.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
She giggled.
I followed her downstairs.
Alexander stood at the stove.
No suit.
No flowers.
No photographer.
No candles.
Just pancakes.
One was burned.
I stared.
“You’re cooking?”
“I’ve improved.”
“That statement requires independent verification.”
Ellie climbed into her chair.
Alexander put a plate in front of me.
There was a pancake shaped like a heart.
Badly.
Very badly.
I looked up.
“Really?”
“I tried.”
I cut into it.
Something metallic clicked against my fork.
I froze.
Inside the center of the pancake, protected inside a tiny sealed food-safe capsule, was a ring.
I stared at Alexander.
“You put a diamond in breakfast?”
“It sounded better in my head.”
I started laughing.
Then crying.
Alexander came around the table.
He took the ring out.
Then he knelt.
Ellie gasped.
“Daddy floor!”
I laughed through tears.
Alexander looked up at me.
“Claire Bennett.”
His voice shook.
“I loved you badly once.”
Tears ran down my face.
“I thought being your husband meant you would always be there when I came home.”
He swallowed.
“I know now that marriage is waking up every day and choosing to be someone worth coming home to.”
Ellie clapped.
Alexander smiled at her.
Then he looked back at me.
“I cannot promise I will never disappoint you.”
“That would be suspicious.”
He laughed.
“I can promise I will never make you face the truth alone again.”
My chest hurt.
“I will show up.”
He reached for my hand.
“For you.”
Then Ellie’s.
“For her.”
His eyes returned to mine.
“And if you’re willing to choose me again, knowing exactly who I was and exactly who I’m trying to become…”
He held up the ring.
“Will you marry me?”
I let him wait.
Five seconds.
Ten.
His expression became alarmed.
I smiled.
“Yes.”
Alexander stopped breathing.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
He stood so quickly he almost knocked over the chair.
He put the ring on my finger.
Then he kissed me.
Ellie shouted.
“Me!”
We laughed and pulled her between us.
Alexander kissed her cheek.
I kissed the other.
May you like
And for the first time, the idea of marrying him again didn’t feel like returning to the past.
It felt like choosing a future.
