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Chapter 14 - THE PROPOSAL NOAH ALMOST RUINED

The ring was nothing like Celeste’s.

Adrian made sure of that.

Celeste had worn a classic diamond solitaire.

Mine was an emerald-cut diamond with two small sapphires.

“Why blue?” I whispered.

Adrian smiled.

“Gray-blue seemed narcissistic.”

I laughed through tears.

Then he knelt.

Actually knelt.

Adrian Kane, billionaire CEO and terror of quarterly earnings calls, was on one knee in my apartment.

“Emma Reed.”

“Yes?”

“I had a speech.”

“Had?”

“Noah rewrote it.”

My eyes widened.

From the hallway came a muffled noise.

I turned.

“Noah?”

Silence.

Adrian closed his eyes.

The closet door opened.

Noah crawled out.

“I was supposed to wait until she said yes.”

I laughed so hard I could barely breathe.

Adrian glared.

“Go back.”

“No.”

“You agreed.”

“I changed my mind.”

Gerald appeared next.

Apparently, he had also been hiding.

I covered my mouth.

Adrian looked defeated.

“Fine.”

Then Noah stood beside his father.

“Dad wants to marry you.”

“I gathered that.”

“He loves you.”

Adrian muttered:

“Thank you, attorney.”

“And I love you.”

That broke me.

Noah looked nervous now.

“For real.”

I crouched in front of him.

“I love you too.”

He swallowed.

“But you don't have to be my mommy if you don't want.”

My eyes filled instantly.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because Mommy said nobody should have to replace her.”

Adrian stared at him.

“When did you hear that?”

“Grandma showed me the video.”

Margaret Kane was apparently incapable of controlling herself around archives.

Noah continued.

“So you can just be Emma.”

I hugged him.

“I would be very proud to just be Emma.”

He whispered into my shoulder:

“Can you also be family?”

“Always.”

Then Adrian cleared his throat.

“Is there any chance I can finish my proposal?”

Noah released me.

“Okay.”

Adrian looked at me.

“Emma, you walked into my life as the only person in my office who was never impressed by my surname.”

“That is not true.”

He frowned.

“It isn't?”

“I was terrified of you.”

Noah laughed.

Adrian ignored him.

“You made my life function before I knew how empty parts of it had become.”

His voice softened.

“You protected my son without trying to own his affection. You challenged me without making me feel small. You respected the woman I lost without asking me to live inside the loss forever.”

I was crying openly.

“I don't need you to rescue me.”

He smiled.

“Thank God.”

“I don't need Noah to need you.”

He glanced at his son.

“He already does.”

“I choose you because when you're gone, the house feels less alive.”

Then:

“Marry me.”

I looked at Noah.

He was holding his breath.

Then Adrian.

“Yes.”

Noah screamed.

Adrian stood and kissed me.

Then Noah pushed between us.

“Group hug.”

So that was how Adrian Kane proposed.

With a billionaire on one side, a six-year-old on the other, and a stuffed elephant pressed into my ribs.

Perfect.

Wedding planning began slowly.

We chose spring.

Small ceremony.

No magazine exclusives.

No corporate spectacle.

Celeste would be honored but not turned into a shadow over the day.

Noah had one request.

“Mommy needs a chair.”

I understood immediately.

At the ceremony, we would place one small photograph of Celeste beside the front row.

Not an empty throne.

Not sadness.

Just acknowledgment.

Adrian agreed.

Then another surprise arrived.

Gerald’s Brave Kids received its first major outside donation.

Twenty-five million dollars.

Anonymous.

Rebecca traced the donor only because compliance required identification.

Victor Kane.

Adrian stared at the number.

“What does he want?”

“Nothing attached.”

“No recognition?”

“No.”

Noah heard.

“Uncle Victor gave money?”

“Yes.”

“Does that mean he's good again?”

Adrian crouched.

“No.”

“Bad?”

“No.”

Noah frowned.

“Then what?”

Adrian thought carefully.

“It means people can do something good after doing something wrong. The good thing matters. It doesn't erase the wrong thing.”

Noah considered this.

“Adults are complicated.”

I laughed.

“You have no idea.”

Then Adrian looked at me.

“We're not inviting him to the wedding.”

“Agreed.”

May you like

Some boundaries could coexist with forgiveness.

That was another lesson we had learned.

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