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I want to make sure she’ll never want for anything again.
“Brock, what are you—”
“Felicia,” I say softly. “My mother died shortly after I got divorced. She told me that if I was patient, I’d find love again, and she gave me her engagement ring, telling me to give it to the love of my life when I met her.”
She chokes back a sob as I open the box to reveal a ring, elegant in its simplicity, with nothing but a white gold band and a flawless diamond.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get to say that she was right,” I continue. “I love you. I don’t want to ever be parted from you. I want to call your father and tell him that he doesn’t get to treat you that way, because you belong to me. You don’t exist to make sure he has a roof over his head.”
I take the ring from the box and slip it onto her finger as she sniffs, her bottom lip quivering with emotion.
“Felicia, will you marry me?”
She bursts forward, throwing herself into my arms. Her lips meet mine as she knocks me back onto the soft carpet. Her kiss is heated and fervent, and it takes my breath away as she pulls at my shirt to hold me as close to her as she can.
“Yes,” she pants. “I’ll marry you. Of course I’ll marry you.”
I smile against her lips. “Really getting my money’s worth out of that successful bidding. I love you.”
The knowing smile she gives me as she kisses me again makes everything we’ve gone through to get to this point worth it.
“I love you, too.”
Epilogue
Felicia
Ten years later …
As I end the call with my best friend, finalizing the details of the baby shower we’re having next weekend, I marvel once again at what my life has become.
Not only is Olivia my best friend, she’s also my stepdaughter. While I’ve never thought of her that way, she insists on teasing me about it every once in a while. I smirk to myself about the joke she made over the phone as I head toward her old bedroom, where my children—her half-sisters, technically—now share the space.
Six-year-old Clara is messing around with the makeup kit Olivia gave her for her last birthday, and her eyeshadow technique is surprisingly good. She’s definitely got the flare, but only because Liv showed her how to do it. She may be a lawyer “doing that Elle Woods thing” now, but she never lost her passion for makeup artistry.
Across the room, eight-year-old Chantal has her nose buried in a book, only looking up after I say her name twice.
“Are we going to the library?” she asks eagerly, noticing I’m wearing my usual Sunday work costume.
When I tell my daughters yes, they both dance around excitedly, scrambling to find their shoes and book bags. I can’t help but smile, pleased they love coming to work with me.
Right after our honeymoon ten years ago, Brock drove me to the admissions department of the college I’d deferred a scholarship from. He explained to me that he wanted me to still have the chance to pursue my dreams, even if I was married to him. I didn’t have to work, he said, but he also mentioned that I didn’t seem like the kind of woman who just wanted to be arm candy for her rich husband.
He was right. With his encouragement and support, I completed my undergraduate degree in literature, and then received funds from the college to get a master’s degree in library science. Even though I was pregnant at certain points in time, I managed to graduate with honors.
I couldn’t have done it without Brock’s support, or Olivia’s help. Because of them, I now work at the public library, specializing in children’s literature. And I love every second of it.
Over the years, I’ve really grown the department. I’ve turned the children’s wing into a wonderland for kids of all ages. It’s got books for every child’s interests, and I’ve made sure to design nooks for the adults who bring them here to sit in as they watch their kids develop a love for reading.
Some days can be hard, but Sundays are far and away my favorite. It’s the day I dress up in a costume to match a storybook and read it to the children who come and sit in the reading circle I set up. With my girls in tow, I make my way to the library, excited for what the day has in store.
Without Brock’s love and support, I wouldn’t be doing this every week. He’s truly shown me what it’s like to show up forone’s children, especially because that’s something I never had growing up.
Ever since the fateful night of the auction, my father has been fighting tooth and nail to make up for his mistakes. After Brock and I told him we were getting married, it took him some time to warm up to the idea. It took even longer for Brock to warm up to him right back.
Now, he attends meetings for his alcoholism and gambling addictions. He knows recovery is a long road that has its ups and downs, but he’s fighting for himself. He also volunteers at community centers, helping men who’ve gotten involved in the wrong crowds get out of them.
I never thought I’d say it, but I’m proud of him and the work he’s doing for both himself and others. While it’s a shame it took me selling off my virginity at an auction to pay off his debt to get him to see that his hard living wasn’t sustainable, I’m glad that he finally saw it.
