Chapter 14 - THE PROPOSAL SHE NEVER EXPECTED
Adrian proposed on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
Not at a gala.
Not in front of cameras.
Not beneath a chandelier.
In Celeste's kitchen.
She was wearing old jeans and a sweater.
Her hair was tied in a messy bun.
There was flour on her cheek.
They had been making bread.
Adrian was terrible at it.
He had somehow managed to spill flour across the floor, the counter, and his own shoes.
Celeste laughed.
“You're supposed to knead the dough, not attack it.”
He grinned.
“I'm an architect. I build things.”
“Apparently not bread.”
He wiped his hands.
Then became strangely quiet.
Celeste noticed.
“What?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Can I ask you something?”
She smiled.
“Of course.”
He took a breath.
“I know you've had reasons not to trust promises.”
Celeste went still.
He continued.
“And I know you've worked hard to build a life that belongs to you.”
Her eyes filled.
“I don't want to take any of that away.”
He reached into his pocket.
Then knelt.
Celeste covered her mouth.
“Adrian.”
He smiled nervously.
“I want to build something with you. Not for you. Not around you. With you.”
Tears slid down her cheeks.
He opened a small ring box.
Inside was a simple sapphire ring.
“Celeste Morrow, will you marry me?”
She began laughing and crying at the same time.
“Yes.”
Adrian blinked.
“Yes?”
She nodded.
“Yes!”
He stood.
She threw her arms around him.
They kissed.
Then both looked down.
The bread dough had fallen off the counter.
Adrian laughed.
“Well.”
Celeste wiped her tears.
“We should probably order dinner.”
They planned a small wedding.
Family.
Close friends.
A garden.
No elaborate production.
Celeste refused to organize every detail herself.
Maya volunteered to coordinate.
Sophie, Celeste's oldest friend, handled flowers.
Lydia insisted on managing the music.
Adrian's sister arranged the food.
For once, Celeste allowed other people to care for her.
It was harder than she expected.
She kept reaching for spreadsheets.
Maya confiscated them.
“You're the bride,” she said.
Celeste laughed.
“I know.”
“Then act like it.”
The night before the wedding, Celeste sat beside Lydia.
“Are you nervous?” Lydia asked.
Celeste smiled.
“A little.”
“About Adrian?”
“No.”
Lydia looked at her.
“Then what?”
Celeste considered.
“About being happy.”
Lydia took her hand.
“You're allowed.”
Celeste nodded.
“I know.”
That night, she opened the black folder from the gala.
The invoices.
The emails.
The contracts.
The divorce petition.
She had kept it in a drawer for years.
Not because she wanted revenge.
Because it reminded her of the day she finally chose herself.
She looked at it.
Then closed the folder.
May you like
She placed it in a storage box.
And turned off the light.
