Chapter 22
The summer Ethan turned thirteen, they took a trip.
All five of them—Michael, Ethan, Lily, MJ, and a surprise guest.
Her name was Dr. Amelia Carter. No relation. She was a child psychologist who had worked with the family through the worst of the trial. She was kind, smart, funny, and had eyes the color of the ocean. Michael had been seeing her—professionally at first, then personally—for almost a year.
They went to Italy.
They ate pasta in Rome. They threw coins in the Trevi Fountain. They walked the ruins of Pompeii. They sailed the Amalfi Coast. They ate gelato until they were sick.
In Florence, Michael took Amelia to the Ponte Vecchio at sunset.
He got down on one knee.
The ring had belonged to his mother. Simple. Elegant. Real.
“Amelia,” he said, his voice shaking. “I spent a year of my life married to a monster. I thought I would never trust anyone again. I thought love was just a lie people told themselves to feel less alone. And then you walked into my life. You taught me that it’s possible to love again without fear. To trust again without doubt. To be whole again. I don’t have any fancy words. I just know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
Amelia cried.
She said yes.
Three times.
Ethan and Lily, who had been hiding behind a nearby statue taking pictures, came running. They tackled their father in a hug, nearly knocking him into the Arno River.
The wedding was small.
Just family and close friends.
Richard gave the bride away. Cole was the best man. Daniel, Sofia, and James were there. Agent Harper caught the bouquet.
Lily was the flower girl. She scattered rose petals down the aisle with the seriousness of a heart surgeon.
Ethan was the ring bearer. He walked down the aisle with his head high, the rings safe in a velvet box that had once belonged to his mother.
When Michael kissed his bride, he didn’t just feel love.
He felt closure.
May you like
He felt hope.
He felt the future opening up before him—bright, beautiful, and entirely his own.
