Chapter 9 - HE ASKED ME IN THE SAME BALLROOM
Four years after the night Hannah told Gabriel to stop calling her his girlfriend, St. Catherine held another foundation gala.
Different leadership.
Different ethics committee.
Celia had become director of nursing operations.
Hannah was now trauma education supervisor.
Bellamy gone.
Sofia’s corrected trial record public.
Gabriel attended as a donor but refused board membership.
“Too much temptation?”
Hannah teased.
“Too many meetings.”
Also probably true.
They entered the ballroom together.
Gabriel did not put his hand on Hannah’s back immediately.
He looked at her.
She nodded.
Only then.
That tiny ritual had become theirs.
Halfway through the reception, an elderly donor approached.
“Oh, Mr. Vescari.”
Then looked at Hannah.
“And this must be your wife.”
Four years earlier the entire room might have held its breath.
Gabriel simply smiled.
Then looked at Hannah.
Waited.
She answered:
“Not yet.”
Gabriel froze.
The donor laughed.
“Oh?”
Hannah walked away.
Gabriel followed ten seconds later.
“Not yet?”
She smiled innocently.
“You heard me.”
“Hannah.”
“Yes?”
“You cannot say things like that and then leave.”
“I just did.”
He stared.
Then noticed she was laughing.
“You’re cruel.”
“Growth requires challenge.”
“Apparently.”
They danced later.
Same chandeliers.
Same white flowers.
Different people.
Different them.
Then Gabriel said:
“I have a question.”
Hannah’s pulse changed.
“You always do now.”
“Too many?”
“Never.”
He did not kneel.
Not yet.
“Do you want to get married someday?”
Hannah smiled.
“Someday?”
“Yes.”
“To you?”
His expression became offended.
“Preferably.”
She laughed.
Then became serious.
“Yes.”
Gabriel’s shoulders dropped slightly.
Relief.
“But not tonight.”
“I know.”
“No public proposal.”
“I know.”
“No orchestra.”
“I had considered strings.”
“No.”
“Good to clarify.”
Three weeks later, Gabriel invited Hannah to dinner at home.
He cooked.
Badly.
She suspected something immediately.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“You cooked.”
“Yes.”
“Therefore something happened.”
He sighed.
Then took a ring box from the kitchen drawer.
No kneeling yet.
“May I?”
Hannah stared at him.
Tears already rising.
“Yes.”
Only then did Gabriel kneel.
“Hannah Mercer.”
She laughed through tears.
“Yes?”
“I spent a large part of my life believing love meant knowing what people needed before they said it.”
He looked up.
“I was wrong.”
Her throat closed.
“I don’t want to predict your answer.”
He opened the box.
“I want to hear it.”
Then:
“Will you marry me?”
Hannah nodded.
“Yes.”
He stayed kneeling.
“Verbal answer.”
She laughed harder.
“Yes, Gabriel.”
Only then did he stand.
He put the ring on her finger.
Then asked:
“May I call you my fiancée?”
She hit his chest.
“Yes.”
He kissed her.
May you like
And somewhere, Hannah thought Sofia would have laughed at both of them.
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