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Fleet felt joy, vindication, knowing things had turned out so well for Bitsy. But didn’t she still have to contend with Beau at family functions?
“So how does your immediate family deal with Beau when you have to see him?” Fleet asked. “Or have you all just written him off?”
Fleet didn’t expect the blast of laughter that emerged from Bitsy.
“Do tell,” Talia prompted with a grin. “This has to be good.”
“Well,” Bitsy responded, snickering. “Beau’s wife left him when he was kicked off the force, and took his two kids with her. He had to prove competence to have partial custody, so he went to work for one of the two big car factories in town, starting at the bottom rung. He had to swallow a lot of pride.” She shook her head wonderingly. “Eight or ten years passed, then one day his oldest son, Dawson, brought home a black girl from college. He said he was going to marry her. Beau knew it was either swallow his stupid pride or accept that he’d be cut out of his son’s life forever. He chose the high road. Now it’s almost beyond belief to see him spoiling his two, dark-skinned grandchildren to pieces. It brings a smile to my face every time I see them together.”
“Geeze,” Fleet hissed. “I…never would have figured.” For sure, Duke had been the bigger of the douchebags, but Beau hadn’t been exactly innocent.
“Not that we have the best relationship,” Bitsy cautioned. “He’s never apologized to me for what he did. But he treats my kids like gold, and I think that’s his quiet way of trying to make amends.”
“Speaking of kids, can we see pictures?” Talia prompted. And she was right to change the subject. It was time to leave the past behind, and celebrate every good thing that had come into all their lives.
“Oh, you don’t know what you’ve just asked,” Bitsy quipped.
They spent the next hour, eating great food and passing Bitsy’s phone around looking at her photos. To say that there were thousands would have been an understatement, but it made Fleet’s heart sing.
Bitsy had gone on to enjoy a very sunny post-apocalypse, and so had Fleet, he had to admit, even before Talia came on the scene. But now, he had it all within his grasp. He wanted everything.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Fleet pushed back his chair, grabbed the back of Talia’s and turned it toward him. He dropped to one knee, and fiddled in his pocket, coming up with the box he’d brought with him to Alabama.
When color suffused Talia’s face, and her hands fluttered nervously, he grinned and nodded his head.
“Yup. This is exactly what you think.” He presented the little velvet box with no additional fanfare. “Talia Spires, you are the light of my life and the woman of my dreams. I love you with every ounce of my being. Would you… Could you possibly do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
One huge tear plopped down on Talia’s heaving chest, a short sob escaping. But she beamed past all that, and held out her fingers, wiggling them gently.
He placed the box reverently into her hand, then helped her open it.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, seeing the fiery opal he’d chosen.
Once he’d seen the stone, he couldn’t have picked another—or a diamond—if he tried. The opal reminded Fleet of Talia. Calm and beautiful at rest, but a presence that could ignite into a conflagration when exposed to any catalyst.
“This is you, my love. Glowing, spirited… You’ve flamed your way into my life and changed me forever. So what do you say?”
She still hadn’t answered, but held out her left hand, which he took as a positive sign. Still, he wanted her words. “Is it a yes, Talia?” he asked.
She nodded, putting a hand over her mouth before fanning herself. “Don’t make me talk,” she whined. “Just put it on my finger.”
It was all the answer Fleet needed as he seated the ring.
And the restaurant burst into applause.
