Page 61 of The Single Dad Grump Next Door

And when we let go of the past, we found something neither of us had expected: something worth fighting for.

After the summer ended, and after so many kisses shared among the sandy dunes and sweet promises whispered in the moonlight, we tried to do the long-distance thing. Alina returned to Chicago to prepare for the orchestra’s fall season, fully healed and ready to go, and I stayed in Boston to finish up my latest project. It wasn’t easy, but we made it work. Late-night phone calls, video chats, stolen weekends.

Wren was the first to suggest moving. She’d barely settled into her first semester of second grade before announcing that she wanted to spend more time with Alina.

And then she happened to mention that she’d already been so bold as to call the admissions department at a prestigious school for the arts in Chicago, in hopes of getting into their percussion program. The administrators were so charmed by her boldness that they made an exception, reviewed the audition materials I hastily helped Wren film, and allowed a mid-year transfer.

We moved in January, just six months ago. Now, we live just a few blocks from Alina. Wren sees her almost every day, skipping down the street to pester her when she gets home from rehearsal. Their bond has grown into something beautiful, and I can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude every time I see them together. They’ve become a family in every way that counts.

Of course, I also see Alina every chance I get. I still fly out to Los Angeles often, especially now that Noah Clark’s new movie is in post-production, but my new base is in Chicago rather than Boston, so at least I’ve been able to cut off a couple hours’ worth of flight time.

We’ve built a life together while balancing our busy schedules, and it’s a life that feelsrightin a way I never thought possible. The harsh memories of the past we share have softened, replaced by the quiet contentment of the present. I know that my late wife would be at peace knowing that I’ve found true happiness again.

I know that it’s what she would have wanted for me and Wren, above all else.

And yet, there’s one more step I’m ready to take.

Before I know it, the final notes of the symphony ring out, and the audience erupts into applause. Alina rises from her seat, her gaze sweeping the crowd before landing on our box. Her smile lights up the room, and I feel Wren tugging at my sleeve.

“Daddy! She sees us! Wave!”

We all wave, and Alina’s smile widens. She dips into a graceful bow before the curtain falls, and the applause continues until the house lights come up. Wren is bouncing in her seat, clapping enthusiastically.

“She was fantastic, wasn’t she?” Karina says, her eyes shining.

“She always is,” I reply, my voice thick with pride.

As we make our way to the lobby, the buzz of the crowd surrounds us. Patrons in evening attire mill about, their conversations laced with excitement and admiration for the performance.

Wren clings to my hand, her eyes scanning the crowd for Alina. When she finally appears, dressed in an elegant black gown, her violin case slung over one shoulder, Wren breaks free and runs to her.

“Alina!”

Alina kneels to catch Wren in a hug, laughing as the little girl gushes about the performance. When she stands, her eyes meet mine, and the rest of the world fades away. I cross the distance between us, pulling her into a gentle embrace and kissing her on the cheek.

“You were incredible,” I whisper.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice soft and warm. “I’m glad you were here.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” I say, stepping back just enough to reach into my jacket pocket.

There’s no time like the present, right? No point in wasting another moment. I want to do this right now, with our hearts still hammering from the rush of the music and the thrumming crowd swirling around us like a silken, frothing sea.

Her brow furrows in curiosity as I pull out a small velvet box from my jacket. Behind me, Wren lets out a squeal. The sound is followed by Karina’s sharp peal of laughter and Andy’s deep chuckle.

Alina gapes at me. “Gabe? What’s that?”

I drop to one knee, the noise of the lobby fading to a distant hum.

Alina’s hands fly to her mouth, her eyes wide as I open the box to reveal the ring inside. It’s simple yet elegant, a single diamond set in a platinum band. Not so garish that it will distract while she’s playing, but not so plain that it won’t do her beauty justice.

“Alina Sokolov,” I begin, my voice steady despite the rapid pounding of my heart. I’m vaguely aware of hushed whispers and dozens of turning heads, but I pay them no attention. “You’ve challenged me, inspired me, and made me believe in things I never thought possible. You’ve shown me what love can be, and I don’t want to spend another day without you by my side. Will you marry me?”

For a moment, she’s silent, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

When she finally nods, I nearly collapse in relief. Her voice breaks as she murmurs, “Yes. Yes, of course I will.”

Around us, the lobby erupts into applause. I hadn’t originally intended to make this so public, but I truly couldn’t wait another second. I bought the ring months ago, after all, and had been waiting for the so-calledright moment.

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