Page 111 of All Her Broken Pieces

“Would you be willing to help me through this process as an advisor? I would pay you, of course.”

I blow out a deep breath as I lock eyes with Ethan, and the warmth and love I see there encourages me. “I would be willing to discuss a business arrangement with you.”

We spend the next few minutes mapping out a plan for the buyout, and while it’s just a baby step, my chest warms at the thought that this is progress toward healing my hurt, and I’m optimistic about the implications for how this will impact my future with Ethan.

Three Months Later

Ethan

“I can’t believe this is our last recipe card,” Bridget sighs as she leans over to pop the chicken in the oven.

We’ve spent the last fourteen months cooking what’s left of Nonna’s recipe cards and in those months, Bridget’s flourished and grown, finally letting all her walls down. We’ve never been closer, and I’ve never been happier. This woman pulled me out of my grief, and together we’ve healed ourselves and each other. And I don’t want it to end.

“Actually, it’s not,” I retort as I swat her ass.

“Yes, it is, this is the last one,” she says, flipping through Nonna’s box until she pulls out the final card. Her brows furrow as she studies the ingredients on the card, and I see the confusion on her face when she realizes it’s not the same chicken dish we made.

She follows my lead when cooking like a perfect sous chef, so I’m not surprised she hasn’t looked at the recipe until now when she’s used to me bossing her around.

I reach into my back pocket and pull out the new recipe card and hand it to her face down. As she brings it close to her face, I pull the box out of my pocket and drop to my knee right as she reads the name of the dish we’ve prepared.

“Marry me chicken?” She questions and then her eyes lock with mine as she drops the card, and her hands cover her mouth.

“I want a lifetime of recipe cards with you, hellcat,” I tell her, taking her hand in mine. “Tonight’s recipe was the first in a long list of new recipes I want to make with you.”

“Ethan,” she whispers as a tear caresses her cheek.

“You’re my favorite book. Every chapter, every page, every fucking word of your story is a goddamn masterpiece, and I would be honored to be your person among the pages.”

“The king to my queen,” she offers.

“You’re it for me, Bridget. There’s not a chapter of my life that will ever feel complete if you’re not in it. Our story was meant to be written together, and I would be the luckiest man alive if you agreed to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

“Hell yeah, pup, I’ll marry you,” she says as I slip the ring on her finger and stand, pulling her into me before sealing my mouth over hers.

Two years ago, I was lost, not sure where my life was headed. I never would have imagined myself finding my soulmate in a dance club. Together, we’ve learned a lot about ourselves and each other, and I am thankful to have found my strength in Bridget. She is my home, my soulmate, and I can’t wait to see what life has in store for us. Together.