Chapter 7 - The Man My Husband Asked Me to TrustMarco went to prison.
Helen testified.
The Corsey family's criminal assets were seized.
Noah's inheritance was restored.
My bakery received enough compensation from the recovered accounts to eliminate every debt.
But life didn't suddenly become perfect.
Noah struggled.
He had to process years of manipulation.
I understood.
I had my own grief.
One night, I asked him,
“Do you hate Helen?”
He looked at me.
“No.”
“Why?”
“She loved Chloe.”
“Yes.”
“But she loved her badly.”
I nodded.
“That's sometimes how people hurt others.”
He smiled.
“What about you?”
“What?”
“Do you love Gino?”
I froze.
“That's personal.”
He laughed.
“I'm your son.”
“Exactly.”
He hugged me.
“You deserve happiness, Mom.”
I cried.
So did he.
That weekend, Gino invited me to dinner.
Not a business dinner.
Not a family meeting.
Just dinner.
He arrived in a gray suit.
I wore a navy dress.
He looked at me.
“Beautiful.”
“Don't start.”
“Why?”
“I haven't heard that word in years.”
“You should hear it every day.”
My heart skipped.
We ate at a quiet restaurant by the lake.
He told me about his childhood.
He had grown up in foster homes.
His father disappeared.
His mother died young.
He built everything himself.
But he had never built a home.
“I understand loneliness,” he said.
“I know.”
He looked at me.
“Do you still wear Aaron's ring?”
I touched it.
“No.”
It had been moved to a chain around my neck.
“Why?”
“Because it belongs to the past.”
He nodded.
Then he reached into his pocket.
I froze.
“No.”
He laughed.
“It's not what you think.”
He pulled out the tiny ring.
The original.
The one that had contained the chip.
He placed it on the table.
“Aaron left something else.”
“What?”
“A note.”
He unfolded it.
Gino,
When Beth finally learns the truth, tell her this.
She has spent too many years surviving.
Make sure she learns how to live.
I started crying.
Gino took my hand.
“I don't want to replace Aaron.”
“You can't.”
“I don't want to.”
He looked into my eyes.
“I want to be the man who comes after.”
My breath caught.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I love you.”
I stared at him.
“And I know it's soon.”
“It's been eleven years.”
“Yes.”
“I don't know how to do this.”
“Neither do I.”
He smiled.
“We can be bad at it together.”
I laughed.
Then I kissed him.
Outside, the city lights reflected on the lake.
May you like
For the first time since Aaron died, I felt something other than grief.
Hope.
