Chapter 8 - A New Foundation
Two years later.
The sun was setting over the coast of Maine, painting the ocean in brilliant shades of gold and violet. The salty breeze ruffled my hair as I stood on the wooden deck of our beachfront home.
There were no skyscrapers here. No blaring horns on Fifth Avenue. No boardrooms or luxury limousines.
Just the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.
I held a mug of black coffee, watching a little five-year-old girl run across the sand, chasing a golden retriever puppy. Posie's laughter echoed over the roar of the ocean. She was taller now, healthy and vibrant, her gray eyes sparkling with pure, unadulterated joy.
She was my world.
"She's going to get sand in her shoes again," a soft voice said from behind me.
I turned around. Mave stepped onto the deck, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her chin on my shoulder. She was wearing a simple white sundress, her blonde hair blowing in the wind. She looked breathtakingly beautiful. Not the exhausted, terrified woman I had seen in the rain three years ago, but a woman completely at peace.
"Let her," I smiled, pulling Mave closer. "We can always buy new shoes."
Mave chuckled, kissing my cheek. "You spoil her."
"I'm making up for lost time," I murmured, turning to face her.
Life had changed drastically. After dismantling my mother's grip on Hail Industries, I started a modest venture capital firm focused on green energy. We lived a quiet, upper-middle-class life far away from the toxic society pages of Manhattan.
Marcus Ashford was serving ten years in federal prison. Coraline had married a minor European aristocrat to save her social standing and moved to Monaco, entirely forgotten.
My mother lived alone in her massive penthouse. I hadn't spoken to her in two years. I probably never would again. She had chosen her empire. I had chosen my family.
"Garrett?" Mave asked, noticing my distant look. "Where did you go just now?"
"Just thinking about how lucky I am," I said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thinking about that rainy day on Fifth Avenue. If I had stayed in that car..."
"Don't," Mave whispered, placing two fingers over my lips. "You didn't stay in the car. You stepped into the rain. You chose us."
I looked down at her blue eyes. The love I felt for this woman was a physical weight in my chest. It was deeper and stronger than it had ever been when we were young. It was forged in fire and tested by time.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
Mave gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
I didn't drop to one knee. I didn't need to. I just opened the box, revealing a simple, elegant diamond ring. No multimillion-dollar family alliances. No five hundred guests. Just us, the ocean, and our daughter.
"Mave Whitlock," I said softly, my voice filled with emotion. "I lost you once because I wasn't strong enough to protect you. I will never make that mistake again. Will you marry me? For real this time?"
Tears streamed down her smiling face. She didn't hesitate. She didn't look back at the past.
"Yes," she sobbed, throwing her arms around my neck. "Yes, Garrett. Absolutely yes."
I slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
Down on the beach, Posie saw us hugging and came running up the wooden stairs, the puppy trailing happily behind her.
"Daddy! Mommy! Hug!" she demanded, squeezing her way between our legs.
I laughed, scooping Posie up into my arms while keeping my other arm tightly wrapped around Mave. The three of us stood there on the deck, watching the sun dip below the horizon.
May you like
The storm was finally over.
We were home.
