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“He always seemed so angry about it,” Ella said.
“He was probably putting on a show, so he’d be in good with the bad guys. Keep his cover.”
“I guess so,” Ella said and yawned.
“You’re not supposed to tell anyone about it. Technically, neither of us are supposed to know and your father asked me not to tell you. Whatever you do, don’t let on to your mother. She doesn’t know.”
“I won’t,” Ella said and leaned up to kiss me. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I said I’d tell you everything and I meant it.”
“I did, too,” she replied and snuggled back down and together, we both tried to fall asleep.
* * *
The day of our wedding dawned clear and warm – perfect for an outdoor ceremony late in the afternoon. Steph and Ella spent the morning at a spa getting their bodies waxed, moisturized, massaged, manicured, pedicured and their hair washed and styled. David and I did our own masculine version of a grooming spa and Ella and I ate separately, trying our best to avoid seeing each other on the day of the wedding. Ella slept in Steph’s room so we could start the day right a
nd so when the time came for us to get dressed and for Ella to walk down the makeshift aisle between two rows of folding chairs to where I waited with David at my side, my emotions were high.
When I saw her, I felt my heart swell with happiness.
She was beautiful.
Her hair was up and there were wild flowers in her bouquet and in her hair. The dress was simple but beautiful, matching her own pure beauty.
I felt a choke in my throat as the ceremony proceeded. It was simple, just the way Ella and I wanted. The officiant was a female pastor in the Presbyterian Church that was in the Brentwood neighborhood whom David enlisted to do the ceremony. Before we left for LA, we’d written out our vows, and they pretty much mirrored what we had said to each other weeks earlier.
We stood facing each other and when the time came, we repeated them to each other:
Don't ever doubt my feelings for you. If you need me to, I will happily tell you that I love you every day of my life for the rest of my life.
When I slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed her, I knew we both meant it.
We turned and faced the small group of our family and a few friends, husband and wife and I thought about what my father had written in his will:
My one piece of advice on how to have a happy life? Marry well. Have a family with many children. Love your family with all your heart, the way I did you and your mother.
I knew with a certainty that went right to my heart and soul that he was right.
Epilogue
Ella
* * *
After a wonderful week in Bora Bora, Josh and I arrived back in Manhattan, tanned and rested, ready for our new life together. Both of us went right back to work the day after we arrived home and it felt good to be back in my office with a pile of manuscripts in front of me, waiting to be read. We put our heads down and focused on work for the first month back, and it wasn’t unusual for us both to be working late in the office until eight or nine at night, breaking only to have dinner together in one of our respective offices.
Towards the end of the first month back at work, I felt unwell, and decided to go back to the penthouse early. It was early June and the weather was unseasonably warm. I figured I had just overheated on the way back from my walk through Central Park for exercise.
Before I left the office, I checked my calendar to see what stage of my cycle I was in and noticed that I was late for my period.
I frowned and double-checked, but sure enough, I was a week late. I must have gotten out of sync due to the wedding and honeymoon, but that was to be expected. Sometimes, when a woman went through a particularly exciting or stressful period in her life, hormones would be out of whack. When Jerkface and I split, my cycle was all messed up, despite taking the pill.
I stopped at the pharmacy on my way home and picked up a pregnancy test just in case. I doubted I was pregnant, because I had taken the pill religiously for years, but we had been having sex without a condom for months.
Nothing was out of the realm of possibility…
* * *
