Epilogue
ELIO
The ring burns a hole in my pocket through the entire drive to Ronan's estate.
I've carried it with me for three days now, waiting for the right moment.
Waiting for the courage to actually go through with this.
Which is ridiculous, considering Annie and I are already married.
Considering she's been carrying my child for three months, and that we’ve lived together practically since that night she came running to me for help.
But this is different. This isn't a marriage of convenience born out of desperation and the need to protect her from Desmond's psychotic plan. This is me asking her to choose me, truly and completely, in front of her family. In front of Ronan.
This is me asking for his blessing to keep the thing I want most in this world.
"You're doing that thing again," Annie says from beside me, her hand coming to rest on my thigh. Even that simple touch is enough to calm some of the nervous energy thrumming through my veins.
"What thing?" I ask, though I know exactly what she means.
"That brooding, overthinking thing where you stare straight ahead and clench your jaw like you're preparing for battle.
" She squeezes my leg gently. "Elio, it's just dinner.
We've had dinner with Ronan and Leila twice already since—" She pauses, and I know she's thinking about that night in the warehouse.
The night I thought I might lose everything.
Where I thought Ronan was going to take her from me for good.
I glance at her, taking in the soft blue dress she's wearing, the way her dark hair falls over her shoulders, the way she’s glowing like everyone always says pregnant women do.
She's never looked more beautiful. And in a few hours, if everything goes according to plan, I'm going to ask her to marry me. Again. Properly this time.
"It’s not that. You'll see," I tell her, refusing to elaborate further.
Her eyes narrow suspiciously, but before she can press further, Diego is pulling up to the gates of Ronan's estate. The massive wrought-iron barriers swing open, and we drive up to the main house.
It's strange being here, still, under these circumstances.
Not all that long ago, Ronan was interrogating me about Annie's whereabouts, threatening to put a bullet in my head if I didn't tell him the truth.
Now I'm here for Sunday dinner like we're a normal family.
Like I didn't betray his trust and marry his sister in secret.
Like he hasn't spent the past three months watching me like a hawk, waiting for me to fuck up so he has an excuse to follow through on his threats.
Not that I can blame him. I'd be the same way if someone had done to me what I did to him. The fact that he's even allowing me near Annie is a testament to his love for her, not any forgiveness toward me.
The ring feels heavier in my pocket as we climb out of the car.
"Ready?" Annie asks, lacing her fingers through mine.
No. "Yes."
She laughs, seeing right through me, and pulls me toward the front door. Before we can knock, it swings open to reveal Leila, Ronan's wife, her face bright with welcome, several months more pregnant than Annie is, her bump visible against the silk dress she’s wearing.
"You're here!" She immediately pulls Annie into a hug, then surprises me by doing the same.
Leila has been our unexpected ally these past months, running interference with Ronan when his temper flares, reminding him that Annie is happy and safe, and that's what matters.
Reminding him of how their own relationship played out.
"Come in, come in. Ronan's in the dining room pretending he's not watching the door. "
Annie giggles, and the sound makes my chest tight.
She's been doing that more lately—laughing and smiling, and slowly letting go of what happened with Desmond. She still has nightmares sometimes, wakes up gasping and reaching for me in the dark. But they're getting less frequent. I don’t know how long it will take for her to fully heal, if she ever really will. But I’ll be there through it, no matter what.
Ronan is sitting at the head of the dining room table when we enter, a glass of wine in his hand.
Our eyes meet, and for a moment I see it all flash across his face: the anger, the betrayal, the surge of emotion that I see every time we’re in the same room.
But then his gaze shifts to Annie, and his expression softens.
"Annie." He gets up and crosses to her, pulling her into an embrace that she returns. "How are you feeling?"
"Good," she says, pulling back to smile at him. "The morning sickness is finally starting to ease up."
"Good." His hand lingers on her shoulder for a moment before he releases her and turns to me. The warmth drains from his expression. "Elio."
"Ronan." I extend my hand, and after a beat, he shakes it. His grip is firm—a reminder that he could break every bone in my hand if he wanted to. That he probably still wants to.
"Drink?" he offers.
"Please."
He pours me a glass of wine as we settle into our chairs. "Where's Tristan?" Annie asks, looking around. "I thought he was coming."
"He called about an hour ago," Leila says, reaching for her glass of sparkling cider. "His flight was delayed. He said he was sorry, that he’d be here tomorrow at the latest.”
I see the disappointment flash across Annie's face. Tristan has been… less hostile than Ronan about our relationship. He cornered me two weeks ago when he was in town and told me in no uncertain terms that if I ever hurt Annie, he'd feed me to the sharks in Boston Harbor—sharks that I’m pretty sure don’t exist—but that he was glad she was happy.
Dinner is surprisingly pleasant. The cook did an amazing job as usual—there’s pan-seared salmon with a mustard sauce, roasted vegetables and potatoes, and plenty of wine for Ronan and me to smooth things over.
We talk about Leila’s plans for the baby and Annie getting back to work on the finances for the family, and the work I’ve been doing getting all of the former De Luca interests to run smoothly.
"So," Leila says as we're finishing the main course, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Have you two thought about a real wedding?"
Annie nearly chokes on her water. I feel my own heart stutter.
"Leila," Ronan says, a warning in his voice.
"What?" She looks at him innocently. "They got married in some rushed ceremony to stop that monster from forcing Annie into marriage. Don't you think they deserve a proper wedding? With family and friends and a beautiful dress?"
"We haven't really discussed it," Annie says, glancing at me. There's color in her cheeks, and she bites her lip.
"Well, you should discuss it," Leila says firmly. "Annie, you deserve to have the wedding of your dreams. And Elio—" She turns to me. "Don't you want to see her walk down the aisle toward you? To make those vows in front of everyone who matters?"
"Leila—" Ronan says, but there's less heat in his voice now. He's looking at Annie, seeing the way she’s looking at me, the smile on her lips as she imagines what Leila is describing.
I doubt I’m going to get a better moment.
I push back from the table and stand, my hand going to my pocket. Annie looks up at me, confusion in her eyes, and then her gaze drops to where I'm pulling out the small velvet box.
"Elio," she breathes. "What are you—"
"I know we're already married," I say, my voice steady despite the way my heart is hammering against my ribs.
"I know we already made vows to each other in a church, with a priest, so we basically did it right the first time.
" That gets a small laugh from her, and it gives me courage.
"But Leila's right. You deserve more than that, Annie.
You deserve to have the wedding you've always dreamed of.
You deserve to walk down the aisle in a beautiful dress, with your brothers giving you away.
You deserve to make vows in front of everyone who loves you. "
I drop to one knee, and I hear Leila's sharp intake of breath, Annie's soft gasp.
"Elio," Annie whispers, tears already welling in her eyes.
"Annie O'Malley—Annie Cattaneo—" God, I love saying that.
Love that she's mine. "You've been mine since we were sixteen years old, even when I was too stupid to admit it.
You've been mine through eleven years of separation, through lies and danger and all the choices we made, right and wrong.
You've been mine since the moment I kissed you behind the high school gym.”
I open the box, revealing the ring I spent three weeks choosing: a princess-cut diamond surrounded by smaller stones, set in platinum. It catches the light from the chandelier, throwing rainbow prisms across the place settings.
"I'm asking you now, in front of your family, to be mine in every way that matters. To let me give you the wedding you deserve, the life you deserve, the love you deserve. Annie, will you marry me? Again? Properly this time?"
She's sobbing now, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide and shining with tears. For a terrifying moment, she doesn't answer, and I wonder if I've miscalculated. If I shouldn’t have done this yet in front of Ronan.
And then she launches herself at me, nearly knocking me over as she wraps her arms around my neck. "Yes," she gasps against my shoulder. "Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times yes."
Relief floods through me so powerfully I nearly collapse. Instead, I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her tight, breathing in the scent of her perfume. "I love you," I murmur against her hair. "I love you so much, cuore mio."
"I love you too," she says, pulling back just enough to kiss me. “I love you.”
I take her left hand and slide the engagement ring on next to it. It fits perfectly, just like I knew it would. "It's beautiful," she whispers, holding her hand up to watch the diamond catch the light. "Elio, it's perfect."
A throat clears behind us, and I remember with a jolt that we're not alone. I help Annie to her feet and turn to face Ronan, who's still sitting at the head of the table, his expression unreadable.
This is the part I've been dreading. The part where I have to ask the man whose trust I betrayed for his blessing.
I take a deep breath and meet his eyes. "Ronan, I know I don't deserve your blessing.
I know I betrayed your trust and went behind your back.
But I'm asking for it anyway." I pause, choosing my words carefully.
"I love your sister more than anything in this world.
She and our child are my entire life. And I swear to you, on everything I hold sacred, that I will spend every day proving I'm worthy of her.
That I will protect her and cherish her and give her the life she deserves. "
The silence that follows feels like it lasts forever. Ronan's gaze moves from me to Annie, who's still clutching my hand, her other hand resting on her stomach.
"Please, Ronan," she says softly. "I know you're still angry. I know we hurt you. But I love him. And I want to marry him properly, with you there. With your blessing."
Something shifts in Ronan's expression. The hard edges soften just slightly.
"Ronan," Leila says quietly, her hand coming to rest on his arm. "Look at her. Look at how happy she is."
I see the moment his resolve cracks, the moment his love for his sister wins out over his anger at me.
"Fine," he says, and the word is hard but not unkind. "You have my blessing. Both of you." He looks at me for a long moment. "But Elio, hear me now: you hurt her, you make her cry, you give me even one reason to regret this, and I will end you. Slowly. Understood?"
"Understood," I say. I’ve never meant anything more. And I know I’ll never hurt her. I’d rather end myself first.
Ronan nods, then does something that surprises me, he stands up, and clasps my hand in his. He hesitates for one moment, and then pulls me into a hug, the way we used to do as brothers.
I embrace him in return. It’s the beginning of forgiveness. And I’m so grateful for it that my chest aches. "Thank you," I say quietly. "I won't let you down."
"See that you don't." Ronan's grip tightens for a moment, then he releases me and pulls Annie into another hug. "I hope he makes you as happy as you deserve,” he murmurs, and she beams up at him, her face alight with happiness.
"He does," she says softly. "He really does."
Leila appears with champagne and sparkling cider for herself and Annie—and pours a toast for all of us.
And as I stand there with my arm around Annie's waist, her engagement ring sparkling on her finger, Ronan's grudging acceptance still ringing in my ears, I believe, against all odds, that we're going to get our happy ending.
That, after everything, the promise I made to Annie as we left that warehouse is going to come true.
We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay—better than that, actually.
It’s going to be perfect.