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“No, I fucking don’t.”
I press our mouths together and feel like complete for the first time in my life. “You are going to be the biggest gamble I take and my best chance at life filled with love.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of colors, and I see him reach into his pocket and pull out a small velvet box.
The palms sway in the breeze as he opens it, revealing a stunning ring. “Enzo!” A massive diamond catches the last rays of the sun, casting a kaleidoscope of light around us. “Is that a friendship ring?”
Laughing, he holds it up. “This ring is my way of asking you to trust me with your heart and take a leap of faith to build a future together.”
“Honey,” I begin, swallowing hard, trying to put my thoughts into words. “I’m not a leaper… but how can I say no to you?”
“I’m a grown-up version of Cookie Monster. If you let me hold your hand for the rest of your life, I will make the world feel right.”
I take his hand and link our fingers. “I would love nothing more.”
“I love you, Abby Mercer.” He slips the ring on my finger, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.
The ring feels heavier than I’d expected, but not nearly as heavy as the weight of our commitment to each other. Our love feels like this ring. It’s genuinely tangible and something we can hold onto when danger knocks on the door.
“We’re going to have a good life, Abby.”
“I’m counting on it.” Leaning up, I kiss him tenderly and feel the world fade away. “Because you’re stuck with me, Mobster.”
“That was the plan all along.” A fierce smile spreads across my face, and I wonder exactly how diabolic my future husband is.
“Are you ready to show the world what we’re made of, Sharky?”
“Absolutely, Mobster.” His mouth curves into a smile that matches my own, and I know that no matter what happens, Enzo will do everything possible to twist the stars in the sky and make our future gloriously bright.
Epilogue
Four Years Later
Golden rays of sunlight stream through the large, open windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wooden table where I sit with my daughter. Eyes that match her father’s sparkle with curiosity as she gazes at the deck of cards in my hands, her tiny fingers fidgeting in anticipation.
“Alright, sweetheart,” I say softly, “I’m going to teach you how to play a card game.” Her face lights up, and I hope she will always be eager to learn something new.
“First, we need to shuffle the cards.” I demonstrate by mixing the deck, my movements smooth and precise despite not playing as often as I used to. My daughter watches intently, her small brow furrowed in concentration.
“Can I try?” she asks, her voice impatient. I nod and hand her the deck, guiding her as she attempts to shuffle the cards. She struggles initially, dropping a few onto the table, but gets more confident as we practice. “Good job, honey.”
“Okay, Mommy, what’s next?” she asks, her excitement palpable. I take a deep breath and begin explaining the rules of the game. As I speak, I watch her taking in every word and detail. She’s intelligent and seems to have the same love of numbers that I do.
“Remember, sweetheart,” I say, stressing the importance of strategy, “the key is to think about the cards you have and make decisions based on that.”
“Okay, Mommy,” she nods enthusiastically, her eyes filled with determination. As we settle into our game, I still can’t believe this little girl is ours. It took us a minute to get here, and I never want to forget to appreciate the blessing.
I shuffle the cards one last time and glance at my daughter’s eager face. “Alright, sweetie, we’re going to start with a simple game called Go Fish,” I explain. Her eyes light up as she nods in anticipation.
Her tiny hands reach out for the cards I deal her. She fumbles a bit but manages to hold onto them. “Ready to play?” I ask, raising an eyebrow playfully. She nods vigorously, her blond curls bouncing along with her excitement.
“Go fish!” she yells out, clearly misunderstanding the rules. I suppress my laughter. “Not yet, honey. You need to ask me for a card first.”
“Okay, Mommy. Do you have any... threes?” she asks hesitantly, peeking at her cards. My heart burst with pride as I see her actively trying to understand the game.
“Good job, sweetheart! That’s how you ask,” I reply, handing her one of my threes. “Now it’s my turn.”
