Page 121 of The Beast of Brooklyn
I know she’s happy, but there’s a heaviness in her I’ve seen before. Like the way she holds herself at Gracie’s soccer games, in those moments when she’s smiling, but there’s something else behind it. The weight of grief that still hangs over her, no matter how many good things happen.
I stand, sliding the ring onto her finger, and gently brush the tears from her cheek with my thumb. “I hope those are happy tears.”
“They are,” she says, voice hoarse. “I was just thinking about mom. How I wish she was still around to share this. She would have loved you.”
My chest tightens. I kiss her knuckles, holding her hand in mine. “I know, and I’ll make a promise to her I’ll look after you for the rest of my life, and I’ll love you enough for both of us.”
Tears spill down her face, but her smile cuts through it all, shaky and beautiful.
I lift her chin, a hint of amusement flickering in my eyes. “I spoke to Gracie to ask her if it was okay. There was no one else to ask.”
Violet’s eyes widen. “You asked Gracie?”
“Yeah,” I grin, “She said it was fine—as long as I provide a lifetime supply of fried chicken.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “You really are crazy.”
I pull her close again, my lips brushing her hair. “And you said yes. So, what does that make you?”
“Yours,” she whispers.
“Damn right.”
The End
