14. Elise
— ? —
Elise
Two Weeks Later
The fallout from the baby shower is nuclear.
I hear about it in pieces - from Maya, from news alerts, from the society gossip columns that have suddenly discovered the Reid family is excellent content.
Megan has the baby. A girl, seven pounds, four ounces. She names her Lily.
And then, three weeks after the birth, she leaves.
Not dramatically, not the way she arrived in my life, crashing through doors and detonating bombs. She leaves quietly. Packs a bag while Connor’s at work, bundles the baby into a car seat, and drives to her mother’s house in Ohio.
She files for full custody the next day.
“Karma,” Maya says when she tells me, her voice rich with satisfaction. “The woman who blew up your marriage just walked out on the man she blew it up for.”
“It’s not karma.” I’m curled on Dominic’s couch, phone pressed to my ear, watching the rain streak down the windows. “It’s just... sad.”
“Sad? Elise, she crashed your vow renewal on live video. She called you pathetic in front of two hundred people.”
“She was lied to. Just like I was.” I think about her face at the baby shower, the devastation when she realized she wasn’t special after all. Just another woman Connor used. “She thought she was the love story. Turns out she was just the affair.”
Maya is quiet for a moment. “You’re a better person than me.”
“I’m really not. I just...” I trail off, trying to find the words. “I spent so long being angry at her. Blaming her. But she didn’t make Connor cheat. He was always going to cheat. If it wasn’t her, it would have been someone else.”
“Still. She made choices.”
“Bad ones. But she’s paying for them now.” I think about Megan in Ohio, alone with a newborn, trying to rebuild a life from the wreckage. “That’s punishment enough.”
***
Connor calls me at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday.
I’m half-asleep, tangled in Dominic’s sheets, when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it without looking, expecting Maya or a spam call.
“Hello?”
“You ruined my life.”
I sit up. Beside me, Dominic stirs.
“Connor?”
“She left. Megan left. She took my daughter - my daughter, Elise - and it’s all your fault.”
His voice is slurred. Drunk, probably. Or maybe just broken.
“Connor, it’s two in the morning.”
“I don’t care what time it is. I want you to know what you did. I want you to understand-”
“I understand plenty.” I’m fully awake now, cold anger cutting through the fog of sleep. “I understand that you cheated on me for over a year. That you lied to everyone who trusted you. That you treated women like options instead of people.”
“I loved her.”
“You loved having her. There’s a difference.”
Silence on the line. Dominic is sitting up now, watching me with concern.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” Connor says finally. His voice cracks. “Being alone. Having everyone turn against you.”
“Actually, I know exactly what that’s like. You did it to me, remember? Publicly. On video. Twelve million views.”
“That wasn’t - I didn’t mean for it to happen that way-”
“But it did. And instead of taking responsibility, you let your mother blame me. You let the internet call me pathetic. You never once - once - apologized.”
More silence.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
The words land strangely. I’ve imagined hearing them so many times - dreamed about it, fantasized about the moment Connor would finally acknowledge what he did.
Now that it’s here, it feels... empty.
“I don’t need your apology,” I say. “Not anymore.”
“Then what do you need?”
“Nothing. Not from you.” I take a breath. “Get some help, Connor. Go to therapy. Figure out why you destroy everything you touch. But stop calling me. We’re done.”
“Elise-”
“Goodbye, Connor.”
I hang up.
Block his number.
And just like that, it’s over.
***
Dominic is watching me in the darkness.
“Connor?” he asks.
“Megan left him. Took the baby.”
“I heard.” He reaches for me, pulls me against his chest. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” I nestle into his warmth, letting his heartbeat steady me. “He apologized.”
“Did it help?”
“No. But it didn’t hurt either.” I’m quiet for a moment, processing. “I think I’m finally done with him. Like, actually done. Not just pretending to be over it, but genuinely... finished.”
“That’s good.”
“It feels strange. He was such a huge part of my life for so long. And now he’s just... nothing.”
“Not nothing.” Dominic’s voice is soft. “He’s your past. But that’s all he is now.”
“And what are you?”
“I’m your future.” He tilts my chin up, meeting my eyes in the moonlight. “If you want me to be.”
“That’s a big statement for 2 a.m.”
“I’m a big statement kind of guy.”
I laugh despite myself. “You really are.”
He kisses me, slow, sweet, full of promise.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you too.”
“Good.” He settles back against the pillows, pulling me with him. “Now go back to sleep. We have the rest of our lives to figure out the details.”
The rest of our lives.
I like the sound of that.
***
I’m almost asleep when Dominic shifts beside me.
“Elise?”
“Mmm?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?”
He’s quiet for a long moment. I can feel the tension in his body - nerves, maybe, or anticipation.
“About us. About the future.” He pauses. “About what I want.”
“And what do you want?”
Instead of answering, he reaches toward the nightstand. Opens a drawer. Pulls something out.
I hear it before I see it, the soft snick of a box opening.
I sit up.
In the moonlight, I can just make out the shape in his hands. A small velvet box. And inside-
“Dominic.”
“I know the timing is crazy.” His voice is steady, but I can see his hands shaking slightly. “We’ve only been together four months. You just got off the phone with your ex-husband. This is probably the worst possible moment-”
“Dominic-”
“But I’ve been waiting six years for you, Elise. Six years of watching you from a distance, wanting you, knowing I couldn’t have you.” He meets my eyes. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”
The ring catches the moonlight. Simple. Elegant. Nothing like the gaudy diamond Connor gave me - this one is delicate, beautiful, me.
“I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow,” he continues. “Or next month. Or even next year. I’m asking you to say yes to the possibility. To the future. To us.”
Tears are streaming down my face. I’m laughing and crying at the same time, overwhelmed by the absurdity and the perfection of this moment.
“You’re proposing at 2 a.m.?” I manage. “After your brother’s drunk dial?”
“I’m proposing at the perfect moment. When you’ve finally closed the door on him. When you’re in my bed, wearing my shirt, and I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” He cups my face in his hands. “Marry me, Elise. Not because of the past - because of the future. Our future.”
“That’s insane.”
“Is that a no?”
“It’s a ‘you’re insane and I love you and yes.’”
His whole face transforms. Wonder. Joy. Disbelief.
“Yes?”
“Yes.” I’m laughing through my tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you ridiculous man.”
He slides the ring onto my finger. His hands are definitely shaking now.
“It fits,” he breathes.
“You guessed my ring size?”
“I asked Maya.”
“Of course you did.”
He kisses me - deep and fierce, pouring everything he feels into it. I kiss him back with equal intensity, tasting tears on both our lips.
“I love you,” he says when we finally break apart.
“I love you too.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Dominic Reid.”
“I love you too, Elise-” He pauses. “You’re going to need a new last name.”
“I was thinking about keeping mine, actually.”
“Fair. Reid has a lot of baggage.”
“I could hyphenate. Elise Monroe-Reid.”
“That sounds like a law firm.”
“It sounds like us.”
He grins - that devastating grin that still makes my heart stutter.
“It sounds perfect.”
***
We don’t sleep.
Instead, we lie tangled together, making plans. Talking about the future - where we’ll live, what kind of wedding we want, whether we want kids.
“I want a dog,” I say. “Before kids. I want to make sure we can keep something alive together.”
“What kind of dog?”
“A mutt. Something from the shelter.”
“A mutt,” he repeats, smiling. “I like that.”
“We’ll name him something ridiculous.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Chaos. Destruction. Something that’ll embarrass us at the vet.”
“Chaos,” Dominic says thoughtfully. “I like it.”
“You like everything right now. You’re high on engagement endorphins.”
“Guilty.” He pulls me closer. “But I’ll still like it tomorrow. And the next day. And every day after that.”
“You’re disgustingly romantic.”
“You made me this way.”
“I accept no responsibility.”
He laughs, kissing my forehead.
Outside, the first light of dawn is creeping over the city. A new day. A new chapter.
“So what now?” I ask.
“Now we call Maya. She’ll never forgive us if she doesn’t hear first.”
“It’s 5 a.m.”
“She’ll forgive us when she hears why.”
I reach for my phone. Pause.
“What?” Dominic asks.
“I just realized something.”
“What?”
“Months ago, I was planning a vow renewal for a man who was cheating on me with his assistant.” I look at the ring on my finger - simple, beautiful, right. “And now I’m engaged to his brother. In his bed. At 5 a.m. After blocking his number.”
“Life is weird.”
“Life is insane.”
“But good insane?”
I think about it. About everything that’s happened, the humiliation, the grief, the anger. The slow process of rebuilding myself from the wreckage. And then Dominic, showing up with Vietnamese food and terrible coffee and a heart so big it makes my chest ache.
“Yeah,” I say. “Good insane.”
I call Maya.
She answers on the second ring, voice groggy with sleep.
“Someone better be dead.”
“I’m engaged.”
Silence.
Then a scream so loud I have to hold the phone away from my ear.
“WHAT? ELISE MARIE MONROE, ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?”
“Completely serious.”
“TO DOMINIC? THE HOT brOTHER?”
“To Dominic. The hot brother.”
“OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD.” I can hear her scrambling around, probably falling out of bed. “I’M COMING OVER. I’M COMING OVER RIGHT NOW. DON’T MOVE. DON’T DO ANYTHING. I NEED TO SEE THE RING.”
“Maya, it’s 5 a.m.-”
“I DON’T CARE. THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.”
“Pretty sure it’s supposed to be the best day of my life.”
“YOUR LIFE, MY LIFE, SAME DIFFERENCE. I’LL BE THERE IN TWENTY MINUTES.”
She hangs up.
I look at Dominic, who’s grinning at me.
“She’s coming over?”
“In twenty minutes.”
“Then we should probably put on clothes.”
“Probably.”
Neither of us moves.
“Five more minutes,” I say, curling against him.
“Five more minutes,” he agrees.
We lie there together, watching the sun rise over the city, and I think: This is what happiness feels like.
I’d almost forgotten.