Page 62 of Her Filthy Cold Billionaire Boss

“I told you I quit,” I said, and he nodded, solemn.

“And I accept. But I can’t let you go that easy.”

I reached out, and he caught my hand, his grip tight and warm. We just stood there, silent, the past dissolving into something new.

Then, from the kitchen, my mother’s voice: “Well, are you going to tell her, or do I have to?”

I stared at her, confused. “Tell me what?”

My mother smiled, a little conspiratorial. “He didn’t just come here for you. He brought us here. He called us last week, told us everything.”

I looked at Gareth, stunned.

He shrugged, sheepish. “I thought maybe if I could fix your family, I could make up for breaking you.”

I burst out laughing, and then, unexpectedly, burst into tears. “You didn’t break me, you dolt.”

I saw Gram shake her head and waggled a finger at her. “Don’t.”

He pulled me in, holding me tight, his hand at the back of my head.

“You’re still an idiot,” I said, my tears dotting his shirt.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I’m your idiot. Or, I’d like to be. Can you forgive me?”

“Absolutely not. But I’ll think about it.”

We stayed like that for a long time, the rest of the world melting away.

But then, the door swung open again and Ruby walked in, arms loaded with shopping bags, hair freshly styled.

“Did I miss the big moment?” she asked, dropping the bags with a thud. “Tell me he didn’t chicken out.”

I wiped my face, sniffling. “What big moment?”

Ruby rolled her eyes, looked at my grandmother, then at Gareth. “Is she always this dense, or is it the trauma?”

“Runs in the family,” said Gram.

Gareth looked at me, then at the room, then back at me. He fished something from his pocket, a small, black box, and dropped to one knee.

The room went silent. Even the radiator kicked off.

He cleared his throat, then looked up, eyes blazing.

“I messed up.”

I nodded. “You covered that part.”

He smiled, and continued. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to spend forever making up for hurting you, and doing everything I can to make you happy, even if it takes everything and every moment I have left on this Earth. Will you marry me?” he asked.

My mind went blank. My heart stuttered, then soared.

For a moment, all I could do was stare. At him, at the ring box, at the weird, perfect, broken circle of my family.

I looked at the wall, at a framed photo of Dolan. I wondered what he would say, if he could see me now.

I hoped he’d be proud.