Chapter 17
Vivian asked me to marry her again in the garden.
Not with a ring.
With a question.
“Do you still want a life with me after seeing where I come from?”
I looked at her.
“I come from poison too.”
She smiled sadly.
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“Yes,” I said. “But not the life we planned.”
“No ballroom?”
“No performance.”
“No vase?”
“Absolutely no vase.”
She laughed.
A real laugh.
The wedding happened in spring.
Small.
Garden.
Yellow flowers.
Maisie carried no rings because she said rings made adults dramatic.
Fair.
Flora stood beside her.
Cedric came.
He sat in the second row and cried quietly.
Vivian let him walk her halfway down the path.
Then she walked the rest alone.
Her choice.
At the front, she took my hands.
“I choose truth before family pride,” she said.
I answered, “I choose protection without control.”
Maisie whispered loudly, “Good vows.”
Everyone laughed.
Afterward, Cedric approached Maisie.
“May I speak to you?”
She looked at Flora.
Then me.
Then nodded.
He knelt.
“I failed your mother. I failed you. I am sorry.”
Maisie studied him.
“Are you my grandpa?”
He cried.
“Yes. If you want that one day.”
She thought about it.
“Maybe later.”
He nodded.
“Maybe later is more than I deserve.”
She seemed to like that answer.
Healing did not make a pretty circle.
May you like
It made cautious bridges.
That was enough.
