Chapter 26 Don’t Try This At Home （Kane） #2
Having them play outside is exactly what I want, but I pin on a stern expression.
“Only if you layer up. Coats, hats, gloves, the works. It’s bitter out there.”
“I know, I know. But can we, Dad?”
“Sure, Soph. As long as you don’t go anywhere near the lake.”
“They wouldn’t be that stupid,” Margot says from my other side, giving them both a wink.
“Yeah! We don’t wanna drown,” Sophie says with a quiet dignity as she heads for the car and Dan, who’s back hauling the next load of stuff in.
“See you upstairs,” I say to Margot and head back out to the car for a few last things. We’re not here for that long, so we shouldn’t have that much stuff, but somehow, we still have a carful, more than half of it for the kids.
When I get back upstairs, Margot’s in her old bedroom, the window cracked and a viciously cold breeze sneaking through the gap. There’s something charming about the beauty of her silhouette against the white landscape outside.
I’m lost for words.
Some people are worth the fight.
Worth the fuss, the blood, the sweat, the tears.
Worth the road to forever, paved with hell.
I know that deeply now, just like my failed marriage taught me some people are worth cutting loose.
Margot showed me how good it feels to love, if you can find the right person.
“Thinking about how it feels to be a famous designer yet?” I ask as I go into the room fully, and she laughs, turning around.
“Just checking some emails. And I don’t feel famous yet.”
“You’re on your way.” I hold up her iPad. “Especially once Blackthorn Wings launches Orthique in a few months.”
She’s still so shy.
She blushes adorably. Like she can’t believe the whole design world noticed Sophie’s bubblegum shoes.
“It feels too good to be true,” she admits, glancing up from her tablet.
“What does?”
“To do something I’m actually passionate about.”
“You’ve always been passionate about shoes,” I say.
“No, I mean orthopedic shoes.”
It’s crazy how lightning can strike ten times overnight.
Her new partners even offered to make Sophie one of the faces leading the marketing campaign. Daria was disgustingly thrilled, but my little girl said she needed time to think about it.
Whatever she decides, I’ll be proud as hell, knowing my daughter will never have to feel shame over her feet again.
“It’s not what I imagined. But it’s way better than making any other shoes,” she says, leaning into my chest and tipping her head back.
“You’re too good at this,” I whisper, kissing her again.
“I know! Crazy, right? I’m not even trying.” She shakes her head. “And none of this would’ve ever happened if Sophie hadn’t walked in late one night and asked for help. I couldn’t let her down, Kane. Not for anything.”
There’s a fucking brick in my throat.
Not just because there’s an angel in my arms, but because I know this is it.
“Can I steal you away from your designs before dinner?”
“This is a working getaway for me,” she says, staring at the tablet I’ve put back on her desk. “But for you, okay.”
Without letting go of her hand, I lead her downstairs and out into the back garden, where the frozen lake glows pink under the winter sunset.
The kids are outside, decked out in all the layers I asked.
I think they’re having a snowman-making competition now, passing the time.
“Wait, where are we going?” Margot asks as I lead her forward.
“You’ll see.”
“You’re not taking me out on that lake?”
“If I was going to murder you, sweetheart, I wouldn’t fall through the ice with you.”
“So romantic.” She laughs. “Seriously, you’re taking me to… the storm shelter?”
“There’s something there I want you to see,” I say, reaching out and opening the huge metal doors.
She hesitates as she looks into the darkness. “I haven’t been down there since Lee…”
“I know.” I touch her face, turning it to face mine. “I promise, there’s nothing there to scare you. Just something you’ll like. We’re replacing the shit memories with better ones today. Trust me.”
After another second, she nods. “Okay.”
First thing I do is bring out the blindfold, slipping it over her eyes.
“Um, how will I get down the stairs like this?” she asks, holding still. “I can’t see anything.”
“That’s the point. I’m going to help you. Are you ready?”
“Nope!” She laughs.
“Perfect.” I take her hand and flick on the new light I had installed.
No more flashlights. I want this place to feel safe, welcoming. The same way it must’ve felt before for her grandparents.
We’ve come full circle, and I want her to appreciate how special that is.
After the showdown, this place was covered in dust and glass shards. The beautiful stained glass window was destroyed.
It took a long damn time to get it cleaned up while she was sleeping during our last trip.
But now the floor is bare. There’s a stained glass panel back where it originally stood, and this time it’s made so it opens easily.
I lead her down and stop in front of it. The backlighting gives off an ethereal glow, like it belongs in an old cathedral.
“Okay,” I whisper, reaching for her blindfold. I slip my fingers into the band and stop.
“You’re really milking this.”
“Only because you’ll freak.”
She leans into me a little. “I’m already happy.”
Slowly, I ease the blindfold off and stand back, watching her reaction as she comes face-to-face with the stained glass.
The stained glass image of us.
Her blonde hair and my dark, her blue eyes and my green, her head on my chest and my arms around her.
“Holy—Kane!” Her voice breaks. “Kane.”
“Yeah?” I barely breathe.
“What? How? When?” She turns to face me, eyes glistening with tears. “Oh my God, did you do this?”
“Took five years off my life,” I admit. “A lot of late nights. Months working with the best back in New York until I felt like I could do it justice.”
“You made this? Are you freaking serious?”
I nod firmly.
“Leonidas Blackthorn wouldn’t have settled for anything less in your grandma’s old studio, would he?”
Her bottom lip quivers.
Slowly, shakingly, she nods, and then she wheels back around to the glass.
It’s not as intricate as the greats, no.
Not the sort of rustic beauty you’d find in a church—that’s not us. It’s vivid and bright and the colors are a little chunky.
Still, it’s a statement piece, as she’d like to say.
Just like Sophie’s shoes.
It’s mine. It’s ours.
It’s fucking everything.
I slaved over each inch of glass down to the last detail.
“I thought you’d want it replaced one day, and this seemed fitting.”
“It’s us,” she whispers reverently.
“Us.”
“God, Kane. Have I told you I love you?” She almost charges into my arms, and I catch her, holding her softness against me. “Because I love you. I love you.”
“I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”
“What good part?” She looks around the empty space. “What, are you going to carve our names into a tree? Write them in the sky? Bury us alive together?”
“Sometimes, I worry about you.”
“I’m serious, Kane. What more is there?”
“This.” I kiss her, then step back.
Without hesitation, I drop to one knee, reaching in my back pocket for the little box I spent hours picking out.
Hattie helped me, and I know it caused the girl physical pain not to be able to blab it to Margot five seconds later.
“Holy shit!” she squeals, one hand coming to her mouth. “Are you serious? Oh my God.”
“I haven’t even asked yet,” I say, trying not to laugh.
“Oh, yeah, right, I’m—sorry. Sorry! Ask away. Ask me. I’ll pretend I never said anything.”
“Don’t want you pretending, duchess. Not today and not ever. This proposal couldn’t have gone any other way if it wasn’t real.” I flick the box open.
Inside, there’s the tiny emerald ring nestled inside, set in brilliant gold. Something small and elegant and stylish, just like my wife.
Fuck me, my wife.
The diamond-clustered emerald felt perfect, delicate and stunning like her.
When I showed Hattie, she agreed, so I went ahead and bought it.
“Margot.” I say her name reverently, and she meets my gaze, the tears spilling over. “Before I met you, I told myself I wouldn’t ever marry again, because I didn’t think anyone else would ever fit into my family. But you came along and you proved me wrong, and I’ve been thankful every day.”
“I didn’t think you’d ask,” she says through her fingers, releasing a long, shuddering breath. “Not this fast. Not so soon.”
“When you know, you know,” I tell her. “And I knew almost from the first week in this house that you were the exception to every rule. I knew since I kissed you in the attic. So, Margot Blackthorn, will you be my wife?”
She laughs wildly and holds out a shaking hand.
“You know I will! You know—Kane, you know, and so do I.”
“Hell yeah,” I say, taking the ring out of its cream satin and sliding it onto her finger. The perfect fit still feels like a relief. “But I had to ask.”
“I know we’ve talked about the future, but I didn’t think you were ready.” She’s half crying, half laughing, cupping my face in her hands. “I thought you wanted to wait a while, and… and I was cool with that.”
“Wait for what?” I take her hand and kiss her finger—the one with a glittering ring sitting on it like a star. “I told you, I knew since the moment we met.”
“Liar,” she says, tipping her head back to reveal her throat. “You hated me when we first met.”
“Didn’t hate you.”
“No, but you didn’t think I was the future stepmom of your kids.” She stops, thinking about that for a second. “Oh, do you think they’ll—”
“They’ll love it,” I assure her. “They love you.”
“Oh well, I know that. But I’ve never tried to be anyone’s mom, you know?”
“It won’t be hard. Nothing different from what you’ve been doing every day for months. You’re my wife and their friend and yes, an authority figure when you need to be, but you don’t push it. They respect you for that. That’s what matters.”
“I love them,” she admits, crying all over again. “But you’re right. If I didn’t think I could, I wouldn’t say yes, no matter how much I loved you.”
“And if I didn’t think they’d love you, if they didn’t already love you,” I say, sinking my fingers into her silky hair, “then I’d never ask.”
“You make me so happy, Kane. It’s kinda scary.” She holds out a hand, watching wide-eyed as the ring gleams elegantly in the low light, colorfully tinted from the stained glass.
“That’s okay,” I tell her, sliding my fingers between hers and holding our linked hands above my heart. “You can be scared. I’ll still be right here to hold your hand.”
“I. Love. You.” She laughs and turns back to the glass. “It’s almost a shame this is down here where no one will see it.”
“It’s our special place. Our little secret.”
“I mean, that’s nice, too.” She turns and presses her head against my shoulder.
For the longest time, we just stand there, lost in each other.
If someone had asked me before coming to the lake house if I thought I’d be proposing in the new year, I’d have laughed in their face.
I was done with love and all the trouble that came with it.
Then Margot streaked into my life like a comet, and it’s been one hell of a ride ever since.
And I wouldn’t change a single damn thing.
I just think what kind of romantic clown I’ve become, knowing her and wanting to make her happy to the letter of the law.
The man I was a year ago would’ve called me whipped.
The man I was ten years ago wasn’t half the man I am now.
Now, that last missing piece falls into place, and I’ve met the man I was meant to be.
“Should we head up?” I say, and she nods, this time being the one to take my hand and lead me upstairs into the grey, washed-out light of the day.
It’s clouded over, the sky threatening more snow tonight. The wind whips her hair across her face.
“We should tell them,” she says, but I just point over her shoulder.
While we were down there, the kids’ snowman making competition turned into something a little more elaborate.
I don’t know who wins—Dan’s depiction of me with a large carrot stuck in my face—or Sophie’s Margot, with branchy arms dragging on the ground.
Neither of them are world-class artists yet.
But they also grabbed our clothes.
The snowman has my hat, and Margot’s scarf is wrapped around ‘Margot’s’ neck. The snow woman has bright-red berries for a mouth, pressed into a heart shape. Dan even scrubbed some shredded bark onto my snowman’s chin for stubble.
I scratch my short beard with a smile.
“Congratulations!” Sophie screams, right before cannonballing herself at Margot.
Margot looks at me helplessly as she’s practically tackled to the ground by two small kids. “Did you tell them before we—”
“No,” I say, wrapping my arms around them from behind. Sophie squeals with laughter, and Dan makes a noise a bit like a chicken. “But I guess I let something slip to Dan.”
“I knew the whole time, Dad!” he says smugly. “I figured he was going to ask you to marry him. Sophie said you’d say yes because you love him and you already live with us, so why not? It just makes sense!”
And it does.
Margot laughs. She tips her head back and laughs at the sky so hard the tears roll down her face.
“What?” Dan asks anxiously. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, Bud,” I say, holding my family tighter. “Nothing you could say right now could ever ruin this.”