Chapter 14 - THE SECOND PROPOSAL WAS NOTHING LIKE THE FIRST
Dante never proposed the first time.
That was the problem.
Eight years together.
No ring.
No explanation.
No future.
So when he finally did, five years after my return to Chicago, he chose the worst possible setting.
My kitchen.
Leo doing math homework.
A dishwasher running.
Victoria on speakerphone arguing with Mia about wedding flowers for her own engagement.
Dante walked in.
Put down takeout.
Then looked at me.
“Elena.”
I knew.
“No.”
His face fell.
“I haven’t asked.”
“You have the face.”
“What face?”
“The proposal face.”
Leo looked up.
“Dad has a proposal face?”
Dante sighed.
“Apparently.”
Then he took the ring out anyway.
Simple.
Not massive.
Thank God.
He did not kneel immediately.
Instead, he said:
“I asked you to trust me for eight years without giving you truth.”
Silence.
“Then I married your sister and called the damage protection.”
Victoria went quiet on speaker.
Good.
“I spent years thinking sacrifice counted more if nobody understood it.”
He looked at me.
“It doesn’t.”
My eyes burned.
Then:
“I don’t want you to marry me because of Leo.”
“Good.”
“Or because we lost years.”
“Good.”
“Or because I finally explained the past.”
“Very good.”
“I want you to marry me only if the man standing here now is someone you would choose if you met him today.”
That was the question.
Not destiny.
Not history.
Choice.
Then Leo whispered loudly:
“Mom, say yes.”
I looked at him.
“We don’t pressure women.”
Dante nodded solemnly.
“Correct.”
Leo sighed.
“Fine.”
I laughed.
Then Dante finally knelt.
“Elena Carter, will you marry me?”
I let him wait.
Not cruelly.
Because waiting had become part of his education.
Then:
“Yes.”
Leo screamed.
Victoria screamed through the phone.
Mia screamed louder.
Dante closed his eyes.
“Why is everyone screaming?”
Because happiness is loud sometimes.
We married eight months later.
Not Moretti Cathedral.
No mansion.
An art museum courtyard.
My choice.
Victoria stood beside me.
Leo carried the rings and almost dropped one into a fountain.
Dante wore no family crest.
No succession symbols.
No old Moretti traditions involving ownership or bloodline.
Our prenup was almost aggressively modern.
Separate assets.
Independent counsel.
Leo’s trust beyond either parent’s unilateral control.
No inheritance conditioned on marriage.
No hidden family voting rights.
No guardianship shortcuts.
Then one clause made me smile.
Neither spouse may make major personal decisions on behalf of the other under the justification of protection without explicit consent except in immediate medical emergency.
I looked at Dante.
“You needed this in writing?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He signed.
May you like
I signed.
Then read every page again.
