Chapter 12 - WHEN LUCA ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM AGAIN, I TOLD HIM TO STAND UP
Luca proposed when the twins were eleven.
I knew something was happening because Evelyn texted me that morning:
IF HE DOES ANYTHING PUBLIC, I WILL KILL HIM PROFESSIONALLY.
I stared at the message.
Then called.
“What did he tell you?”
“Nothing.”
“You know something.”
“I reviewed a trust document.”
“Evelyn.”
“He’s nervous.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why are you still involved in our lives?”
“Excellent billing.”
Then she hung up.
Luca picked me up at six.
No limousine.
His own car.
We drove north.
Not restaurant.
Not skyscraper.
The old one-bedroom building where we lived when we first married.
I stared.
“What are we doing?”
“Walking.”
“This neighborhood has changed.”
“Yes.”
The building remained.
Our old unit belonged to someone else.
Obviously.
We stood across the street.
Luca smiled.
“We used to eat noodles on that floor.”
“Yes.”
“You hated the radiator.”
“It screamed.”
“You thought it was haunted.”
“It was.”
He laughed.
Then his face became serious.
“I almost proposed here the first time.”
“What?”
“I had the ring.”
“Where?”
“In my jacket.”
“You proposed two weeks later at the lake.”
“Because I thought this wasn’t impressive enough.”
I laughed softly.
Of course.
Young Luca already believed scale improved meaning.
“What changed your mind tonight?”
“I finally understand impressive is overrated.”
Dangerous sentence.
Then we walked to a small park.
Snow beginning lightly.
Chicago.
Of course.
Luca stopped beneath a bare tree.
He reached inside his coat.
My heart raced.
Then:
“Nia.”
“Before you do this…”
He froze.
“What?”
“Are you doing what I think?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
He looked terrified.
Good.
Then he began kneeling.
“Stand up.”
He froze halfway.
“What?”
“Stand.”
He did.
Confused.
I smiled.
“The first time we got married, I loved the performance.”
“The ring.”
“The proposal.”
“The wedding.”
“This time I need the conversation first.”
His eyes filled.
“Okay.”
So we talked.
Standing in snow.
Two forty-something adults behaving like people who finally understood marriage was not a reward for surviving a plot.
“Why do you want to marry me?” I asked.
Luca breathed.
“Because I love you.”
“Not enough.”
“I know.”
Good.
“Because I like our life.”
“Because I like who I am around you now.”
“Because I can tell you when I’m afraid.”
“Because when you say no, I don’t experience it as abandonment anymore.”
My throat tightened.
“Because I want ordinary mornings.”
“Soccer.”
“Ella’s piano.”
“Eli correcting my technology opinions.”
“Dinner.”
“Arguments that don’t threaten the relationship.”
He swallowed.
“And because I want to choose you without needing you to produce anything.”
There.
Children.
Legacy.
Value.
The old wound.
My eyes filled.
“What if I never gave you another child?”
Luca looked confused.
“I don’t want another child unless we both decide.”
“What if I lost everything?”
“I’d probably panic.”
I laughed.
“Honest.”
“But I would still want you.”
“What if Moretti Global collapses?”
“Then I finally sleep.”
I laughed harder.
Then became serious.
“What if I need to leave someday?”
His face changed.
Not anger.
Pain.
“You would be allowed.”
There.
That was marriage I could consider.
Not captivity disguised as permanence.
“And if I say no tonight?”
Luca’s eyes filled.
“I go home.”
“And tomorrow?”
“I take Eli to robotics.”
“And Saturday?”
“Ella’s recital.”
“And us?”
“I wait until you decide what you want.”
My heart broke open.
Not because he passed a test.
Because I finally believed him.
“Yes.”
Luca stopped breathing.
“What?”
“Yes.”
“To marriage?”
“Yes.”
He began crying.
Then looked confused.
“Can I kneel now?”
I laughed through tears.
“Yes.”
He dropped to one knee.
The ring was simple.
Not Moretti heirloom.
Not enormous.
A diamond with two small dark sapphires.
Eli and Ella had apparently chosen them.
Of course.
“Will you marry me again?”
“Yes.”
He put the ring on.
Then immediately asked:
“Can I kiss you?”
I laughed.
“Yes.”
He kissed me.
Snow fell.
No cameras.
No board members.
No family.
Then applause erupted from behind a parked SUV.
I pulled away.
“What the hell?”
Eli and Ella jumped out.
Evelyn behind them.
Amelia.
Danielle.
Even Luca’s security chief looked embarrassed.
I stared at Luca.
“You said no performance.”
“I didn’t invite them.”
Ella raised her hand.
“We followed.”
Evelyn said:
“I advised against it.”
“You came.”
“I like evidence.”
I laughed until I cried.
Luca looked terrified.
“Are you angry?”
“A little.”
“Do you still say yes?”
“Yes.”
Eli said:
“Good.”
I pointed at him.
“Do not start.”
Everyone laughed.
The wedding happened eight months later.
Small.
Eighty people.
Evelyn attended.
Bianca attended with boundaries.
No corporate press.
No magazine deal.
Eli walked with Luca.
Ella walked with me.
Before the vows, the officiant asked if we came willingly.
“Yes.”
Both.
That word mattered more the second time.
My vow:
“I will not punish you for the man you were if you do not ask me to forget him.”
Luca cried.
His:
“I will never ask you to carry uncertainty alone because I am afraid of what the truth might require from me.”
I cried too.
Then:
“I choose you.”
Not:
I need an heir.
Not:
I need a family.
Not:
I need everything.
May you like
You.
That was enough.
