Page 100 of Romeo

“Don’t play stupid. You’re a grown man. How old are you?”

“Thirty-one, ma’am.”

“Thirty-one years old, calling to ask permission to take an eighteen-year-old girl to prom.” Her voice remained calm, which somehow made it worse. “So I’ll ask again. What are your intentions?”

For once, charm wasn’t going to help me.

“I care about her,” I said. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. I know what the age difference looks like. I know people are going to have opinions about it. But Fiona’s smart, strong, and more resilient than she gives herself credit for. I want to be the kind of man who deserves her.”

“That’s a pretty speech.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Is it?” The softness vanished from her voice. “Because I’ve heard pretty speeches before, Mr. DuBois. I’ve watched men say all the right things to get what they want. Fiona has been through more pain in her short life than most people experience in a lifetime. She’s been hurt, abandoned, and left to fend for herself when she should’ve been protected. I will not stand by and watch another man break her heart because he thought she was an easy target.”

“She’s not an easy target.”

“I know that. Do you?”

The question stopped me cold. Granny continued before I could answer. “You live a dangerous life. What happens when that life touches her? What happens when your world collides with hers and she gets caught in the middle?”

“I’d die before I let anything happen to her.”

“That’s not an answer. That’s a fantasy.” Her voice softened, but only slightly. “Fiona doesn’t need a martyr. She needs somebody who will build a life with her. Someone who will show up every single day and choose her. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t have to think about it. Didn’t need the curse. Didn’t need some grand declaration.

Just yes.

“My life isn’t always easy,” I continued. “I won’t lie to you about that. But when I commit to somebody, I show up. I don’t disappear when it gets difficult.”

She was quiet for a moment.

Then she asked, “Why prom?”

That caught me off guard.

“What?”

“Why do you want to take her? What’s so important about a high school dance?”

I looked at Fiona’s text thread.

Goodnight, Romeo.

“Because somebody asked her to a dance once and left her sitting in a parking lot while he walked in with somebody else. Because I was there afterward, and I saw what that did to her.” My fingers tightened around the phone. “She pretends this one doesn’t matter. Maybe part of her even believes that. But I don’t want her sitting home Saturday night thinking nobody wanted to take her.”

“And you think one night at prom fixes that?”

“No.” I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me. “I think one night tells her somebody showed up.”

Silence settled over the call.

“And Georgie?” Granny asked eventually.

“I respect why he’s protective.”