Chapter 10 - THE OWEN HAYES CENTER
Construction took eighteen months.
The Owen Hayes Center contained classrooms.
Family ASL programs.
Counseling rooms.
A technology lab.
Teen lounge.
Art studio.
Emergency support offices.
And a rooftop telescope.
Roman stared at the telescope plans.
“Why?”
Beatrice signed:
Owen loved astronomy.
Harper cried when she saw it.
Roman pretended his eyes were irritated by construction dust.
Nobody believed him.
Harper graduated from her interpreting program that spring.
She did not immediately work at the center.
Roman was confused.
“You’ve talked about this place for eighteen months.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
“I want experience elsewhere.”
“Why?”
“Because loving Owen doesn’t automatically make me excellent.”
Roman listened.
“I want hospitals. Schools. Community work. Mentorship.”
“So you want to become qualified before making it personal.”
“Yes.”
Roman smiled.
“You’ve infected me with ethics.”
“You needed it.”
Harper spent a year under experienced interpreters.
Difficult hospital encounters.
Schools.
Family meetings.
Emergency departments.
She learned the difference between knowing a language and practicing a profession.
She learned when not to interpret.
How to preserve Deaf autonomy.
How to step back.
Roman’s legal businesses stabilized.
Shipping survived.
Hotels survived.
Security became fully regulated.
Some restaurants were sold.
Bellamy House remained.
Grant Wilkes never returned.
After testifying against Enzo, he worked outside fine dining.
Eventually Harper encountered him at another restaurant.
He looked embarrassed.
“I owe you an apology.”
“You owe Beatrice one.”
“I sent her a letter.”
“She got it.”
“Did she read it?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Harper smiled.
“She said you still know nothing about duck.”
Grant laughed nervously.
“I deserve that.”
“Yes.”
People could change without pretending harm never happened.
Harper liked that.
Enzo’s trial ended with conviction.
Fraud.
Kidnapping.
Extortion.
Conspiracy connected to Salvatore’s death.
Lorenzo received a reduced sentence for cooperation but served time.
Roman attended sentencing.
Reporters waited outside.
“Do you feel vindicated?”
“No.”
“Do you forgive your uncle?”
Roman looked at Harper.
Then answered:
“Forgiveness is not the same as deciding someone is safe.”
Harper smiled.
He had been listening.
That night Beatrice hosted dinner.
Roman cooked.
Terribly.
He could negotiate international shipping contracts but needed instructions for pasta.
Beatrice watched him destroy a sauce.
Then signed:
This is why people feared him.
Cooking.
Harper laughed.
After dinner Roman asked her outside.
The garden was covered in winter lights.
Harper immediately became suspicious.
“You hate decorative lights.”
“I’m growing.”
“Roman.”
He stopped.
Then raised his hands.
Not his voice.
ASL.
The first thing you taught me was sorry.
Harper’s eyes filled.
Second:
Protecting someone is not controlling them.
He continued.
Fear is not love.
Power is not loyalty.
Silence is not peace.
Harper swallowed.
I don’t love you because you saved me.
I don’t love you because Mom loves you.
I don’t love you because you make me better.
He paused.
I love who you are when nobody needs you to rescue them.
Harper began crying.
Roman made another sign.
She stared.
Then laughed.
“What?”
“You signed refrigerator.”
Roman froze.
“I was trying to sign future.”
“Your romantic speech just became refrigeration.”
He closed his eyes.
“Of course.”
He tried again.
Future.
Correct.
I want a future with you.
Then he reached inside his coat.
Harper lifted one hand.
“Wait.”
Roman stopped immediately.
She took a breath.
“I love you.”
His expression softened.
“There’s no but.”
He waited.
“I’m finishing before the jewelry turns my brain off.”
Roman almost smiled.
Harper signed:
I choose you.
His eyes filled.
Not name.
Not money.
Not who you were.
You.
Roman knelt.
The ring was simple.
Elegant.
No ridiculous Moretti crest.
No enormous diamond.
Harper smiled.
“You listened.”
“Occasionally.”
He signed:
Marry me?
Harper looked toward the house.
Beatrice watched through the window.
So did Camille.
Roman’s former security chief.
Then Marlene appeared.
Harper gasped.
Her relationship with her mother had been repairing slowly.
Awkwardly.
Not perfectly.
But Marlene had come.
“Harper?” Roman asked.
She remembered he remained kneeling.
“Yes.”
The people inside erupted.
Beatrice pounded on the window.
ABOUT TIME.
Roman laughed.
May you like
“Even I understood that.”
---
