Page 104 of Best Kept Secret

"Oh, stop," I murmured as everyone laughed.

Beau took the plates from my hand, softly dropping a kiss on my mouth. "I love you, darlin'."

The night went on, filled with easy conversation, good wine, and the kind of laughter that comes from people who have shared too much life together to pretend otherwise. Beau was by my side the whole time, his hand occasionally brushing against mine.

As the night started to wind down, the music shifted to something slow, something that made the guests move aside. Stella stood from the table and pulled Noah to the side to sway with her. Nova and Anson followed suit, dancing near the fireplace. Gabe and Aurora moved off to the side, cradling their baby between them. Even Katya and Trevor found a space, their bodies moving together, caught in a rhythm that only couples who've been through everything can share.

Beau came up behind me, his hand resting on the small of my back. "Dance with me," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck.

I turned, smiling, and let him take my hand. He led me to the center of the room and, without a word, pulled me into his arms. The music was soft, the lights dim, and as we swayed together, my head resting on his chest, I felt it—the quiet certainty that this was where I was meant to be.

His hand tightened on my waist, pulling me closer, and I could hear his heart beating, steady and strong. I looked up, meetinghis eyes, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just us in the middle of the room, in the middle of this life we were building together.

"I love you," I whispered, the words spilling out before I even had time to think.

Beau leaned down, brushing his lips against my forehead. "I love you, too, Mira. I've loved you for a long time."

I smiled, my heart full to the point of bursting. I wanted to tell him that I had been afraid, that I had doubted whether I was good enough, that I had spent so much time worrying I didn't belong in his world. But none of that mattered now. Not when he looked at me like this, like I was the only thing that mattered.

"I have something to ask you." He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.

"What?"

He brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. "I don't want to rush you, but...will you marry me? Not tomorrow, not right away. But soon.Verysoon."

My breath caught, and for a moment, I couldn't find the words. I just stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest, the room spinning around us.

He smiled, that easy, confident smile that always made my knees weak. "What do you say, darlin'?"

"Soon, yes.Very soonwill require us to go Vegas, and I don't think Donna will like that."

He grinned, pulling me into a deep kiss, the kind that made the whole world fade away. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining, and I felt the full depth of everything we'd been through—the heartbreak, the healing, the quiet moments of rebuilding—it had all led to this.

"Everyone," Beau called out, his eyes on mine, "we have an announcement to make. Mira and I are getting married!"

Epilogue

Mira

Istood in the doorway, watching Beau in the soft glow of the nursery lamp, cradling our son in his arms. He was sitting in the old rocking chair we'd picked out months ago, the one we'd argued over—Beau insisting we didn't need anything fancy, and me determined to find the right one. Of course, we ended up with the one I wanted, and now it seemed impossible to imagine this room without it, without him sitting there, singing softly to Manav in that deep, calming voice of his.

He was singing the Bengali lullaby I'd grown up with, the one I had sung to Pari when she was a baby, the one that still lingered in the walls of our home like it had been a part of us from thebeginning. But now, it was Beau who sang it, the words foreign on his tongue but filled with love, with meaning. Every time I heard him sing it, my heart swelled a little more.

"Mamoni go ami bhalo achi…." His voice was low and steady, and his accent atrocious.

Manav, barely a few weeks old, stared up at him with those wide, dark eyes, his tiny fist curled around Beau's thumb. He was so small, so new, and yet it felt like he had always been a part of us. Like he had always belonged here, in this room, in Beau's arms, in our lives.

I leaned against the doorframe, wrapping my arms around myself as I watched the two of them together. My heart felt so full it was hard to breathe. This was our life now—me, Beau, Pari, and Manav. A family that had come together through so much pain and healing, through heartbreak and love. And here we were, standing on the other side of it, happier than I ever thought possible.

Six years had passed since that night we danced in our living room when I told him I'd marry him. And in those years, we had built a life that was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

Pari, now nine, was the heart of our home. She had blossomed into the most vibrant, joyful little girl, and every day with her felt like a gift. She was a whirlwind of energy—always running around with her friends, always asking questions, always dreaming big. But no matter how busy she was, she never went to bed without her song. And now, I had the joy of singing it to Manav as well.

As for Beau, he had become the father I always knew he could be. The kind of father who showed up for every school play, every soccer game, who sat at the dinner table every night, making Pari laugh until she cried with his ridiculous stories. He was the kind of father who held our son in the quiet hours of thenight, rocking him to sleep with a lullaby that wasn't even in his native language but had become a part of him anyway.

My parents had disappeared from my life—and even from their own. My father was arrested and admitted to everything, sparing me the ordeal of testifying against him. I would've done it; I was strong enough. But thanks to Beau, I didn't have to. He'd gathered enough evidence to leave my father no choice but to plead guilty and accept a deal.

My mother went back to India, unable to deal with the humiliation of staying in the United States, where everyone knew that she had been my father's enabler. Did it bother me that the Indian community had found out about our family's dirty secret? Remarkably, no. My parents' friends and our relatives had surprised me by reaching out and offering their apologies for not noticing what was happening to me and Asha. I didn't care. It didn't matter. I had moved on. I had found my place.

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