Chapter 26 - Stella
Stella
Donovan and I spent the rest of the weekend with both of our families under one roof. It was a feeling I didn’t know I was missing.
Our dads spent all of Sunday drinking beers and watching football, while our moms spent the day laughing and sipping mimosas. They meshed so well that it was as if they’d been best friends for years.
Donovan and I spent our Sunday playing with Layla. Watching him with her makes my heart flutter—one day, it’ll be our children he’s playing with.
I made a ton of finger foods for us to pick at, and just as I was setting out the last tray, my mother and Vanessa came down the stairs giggling like high school girls.
I looked up, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”
They looked at each other and laughed even harder.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Stella,” my mom said. “I was just telling Ness a story.” They stepped off the last stair and walked toward the counter.
Vanessa grabbed my face and kissed both cheeks. “Oh, you sweet, sweet girl. This food spread is precisely what I needed.” She reached for a few pot stickers and started devouring them.
Then my mom walked over to Donovan and me, handing him a box. He opened it and turned it to face me.
Inside was a hauntingly beautiful ring. A platinum band worn smooth with time, its edges carved with the faintest laurel leaves. An antique rose-cut diamond sat at the center, flanked by two small black onyx inlays nestled in delicate prongs.
I reached for it carefully. Inside the band, in looping, old-world script, was an inscription: In death and in dreams. P.A. to L.W. Percival Ashbourne and Lenore Wetherell—my great-grandparents.
My breath hitched. Tears spilled freely down my cheeks.
It was perfect. A piece of my family’s legacy. The Carrington's and Ashbourne's etched into metal and stone. The kind of ring that says we are forever. That we’ll carry this legacy forward, together.
Donovan takes it gently from my fingers and slides it onto my left hand.
Vanessa and my mother are crying.
He wraps me in his arms, kissing away the tears I didn’t know were falling from my eyes.
I look down again. The ring is stunning. The perfect piece for the casket princess.
So why did it feel like it didn’t belong?
It sat heavily on my hand.
Maybe it was just the weight of something new.
That had to be it.
A few hours later, Ansel stumbles into the back door, giggling while she waves goodbye to Theo.
I have never seen a wider smile on my happy friend's face.
She turns around and sees everyone staring at her.
“Nice of you to finally join us, right on time for dinner.” I smirk at her.
“Or are you full from the all-you-can-eat sausage buffet?” I laugh out loud.
Her face turns bright red, and all she can do is lift her pretty, pink, manicured hand and flip me off. “I’m starving; I worked up a major appetite today.”
We sit down for dinner, Donovan's family and mine, around our large dining room table. There has only ever been a handful of times this table has been filled like this.
My mom looks up from her plate and asks, “So, have you two talked at all about the wedding yet? You know we can always have it here at the house; there is plenty of space.” Donovan reaches over and grabs my hand before I dive into the details we had already planned out.
“Actually, Mom, we are having the wedding at a gorgeous beach in North Carolina, in the town of Devils Cove,” she says, setting her fork down with an almost disgusted look on her face. “What the hell is so special about a town called Devils Cove?”
Over the next hour, I showed her the pictures we took of the beach and the bar, and I described my dream wedding to her. The one that will take place next spring.
“Oh Stella, I am sorry I had any doubts about it; this will be perfect. Hopefully, you will let me tag along when you go dress shopping.” She is dabbing tears away from her face again. I have a feeling that tears will be flowing at every event leading up to this wedding.
“Of course, I was actually hoping you and Vanessa would fly out in a few weeks; there is a dress boutique I want to look at. Plus, manis and pedis are my treat.”
We arrive home late the next day, all of us exhausted from the events of the previous week. We walk into our dark apartment, and Ansel gasps, “Oh my god, we never got a damn Christmas tree.”
Christmas is just a few days away. I haven’t done any shopping or decorating.
“It’s okay, Ans. We have the next two weeks off from school. Let’s go out tomorrow, grab coffee, and get ourselves a tree.”
And we do just that. We spend the entire day out, laughing and enjoying the cold air. Coffee in hand, we make our way into the cutest Christmas tree lot.
We search for the perfect tree, wandering through the throng of people. Families pose with their adorable kids, all dressed in matching clothes. A couple takes selfies beside the first tree in the row, giggling like they’re the only two people in the world.
I look down at the street and push a rock around with the toe of my boot. “I wish we had invited Donovan along. I know it’s our apartment, but… we have to talk about what happens next, you know?” I glance over at Ansel, sadness in my eyes. “What happens next?”
“Look, Slaymuffin,” she says, bumping her shoulder against mine.
“There is plenty of space if you want to move Donovan in. I think he’s a cool dude.
He makes you happy. But I’m not willing to lose my bestie to a man—at least not yet.
” She throws an arm around me in a side hug and keeps walking like she didn’t just say the sweetest thing in the world.
“Oh my god, Stell, this is the one.” I follow her gaze to a tree that’s leaning slightly to the left.
“See? It’s perfect. It leans a little and has its own opinions.”
I shake my head, amused, and point to the tree next to it. “Now this one is perfect. Full and dramatic, but not in an attention-seeking kind of way. It’ll hold all of your ridiculous decorations.”
We wave the attendant down, and they carefully wrap the tree and place a tag with our name on it.
I call Donovan to come pick it up with Ansel’s truck. We pile in and start singing Christmas songs at the top of our lungs, completely tone-deaf and shameless.
I’m pretty sure he’s already tired of our shit—especially when he slams his hand on the console and smashes the off button.
“Hey! Don’t you dare hurt my Betsy!” Ansel snaps, reaching protectively toward the dashboard.
“Betsy?” Donovan looks over at her, one brow raised.
“Yes, Donovan. Betsy is the name of my truck. Much better than naming your bike Grimm.”
They immediately launch into a full-blown argument over vehicle names, shouting about personality, loyalty, and engine growls, all the way until we park the truck at the curb outside the apartment.
Donovan struggles to carry the tree up the three flights of stairs because, Merry Christmas, the elevator is broken until after the holidays.
As the loving and hilarious fiancée that I am, I documented the entire thing. I tagged him in the video where he drops it, captioning it: “Watching a grown man fight a tree.”
Once we reach the landing, Ansel stops in her tracks.
Colin is standing against the wall, waiting for her.
“You’ve been avoiding my calls,” he says, devastation written across his face.
I squeeze her arm and whisper, “I’ll meet you inside. Scream something obscene if you need me.”
Fifteen minutes later, Donovan has the tree standing perfectly in the tree stand, and Ansel walks back in, sadness still etched across her face.
“I was honest with him about Theo,” she says quietly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been. Not like I’ll ever see him again. It was just a weekend fling.”
I pull her into a hug, feeling the way she melts into me.
“Ansel, you weren’t happy with him. Not like you were with Theo. We’ll figure it out. I promise.”
She walks over to the stereo and puts on Christmas music. The three of us spent the rest of the night dancing, laughing, and decorating the tree.
My perfect little family.
I couldn’t be happier.
Now, I want to tell Donovan that I want him to move in.