Page 117 of Nave
But he was pulling away.
Then lowering down to one knee.
My heart squeezed hard in my chest as I looked at the little blue box in his hand. He flipped the top and there it was.
Not just a beautiful three-stone emerald-cut diamond ring. But all of the meaning behind it. The promises. The hopes.
“I’ve fought for a lot of things in my life, but none of it has mattered like you. Like our baby. This isn’t just a promise to you. It’s a promise to her as well. You’re my family now—have been since you walked through the clubhouse door last year. I want to make it official. Will you marry me?”
It was the easiest “yes” of my life.
Because no matter how many times Nave lent a hand, offered a suggestion, made a decision, he never did it in a way that even hinted at wanting to change me or control me. He wanted to help. He wanted to lighten my load. He wanted to help me make choices that would make me the happiest. He never once tried to hold me back or keep me all to himself. If anything, he wanted to show the world to me; he wanted to offer me everything he had and encourage me to keep seeking more.
This was the man I could lean on, could come to with my problems, could trust to be a partner, not just a spouse, that I knew would be a steady, calm, stalwart, encouraging, and loving father to my baby, to any future babies.
I’d only been bone-deep sure of two things in my life.
That I needed to get away from Ben to protect my baby.
And that I wanted to marry Nave.
“So,” I said after Nave slipped on the ring and I found myself held tightly in his arms, “do you think Gracie has it in her to plan another party?”
Nave - 2 years
That’s how long it took.
Two years.
For anyone to even realize Ben Dalton was gone.
No one had missed him.
No one noticed he was gone.
Not even the employees working at the company that he did still, technically, own. It seemed like that was such a well-oiled machine that no one even remembered that he existed.
What a fucking legacy to leave.
The news report wasn’t even clear who eventually came upon the glass house, finding it strangely empty and the air stale, like it had been closed for a long time.
All the report initially said was that Ben Dalton was a missing person, and gave a number to call with tips.
The information that eventually rolled in?
That was just an endless barrage of bad press. His ex-girlfriends (and even just women he went on one date with) told the media about his relentless stalking. Employees he once worked with talked about his obsessive cleaning habits and his comments ontheirlack of cleanliness. Even his own parents seemed to struggle to find anything kind to say about the son they’d gone no-contact with for years.
From what I could tell, the cops weren’t really even looking for the guy. Not that they’d find him. Buried beneath a big mulberry tree. Which Kit had chosen because it was one of the messiest fruit trees available. Ben’s eternal resting place would be covered in filth for decades to come. I was just wicked enough to love that.
I’d been worried about Lolly finding out the news, but when I’d come home, she’d been in her renovated basement office, already emotionlessly scanning the news herself.
I should have guessed she would already know. Her job required her to be online all the time.
She’d taken to learning about computers like a fish took to water. Junior was constantly saying that she was a natural, that she soaked up information like a sponge. He even figured that, eventually, she might surpass his skills.
Lolly’s goal wasn’t exactly to make bank like Junior did. She wanted to do good. She wanted to help women tormented by wicked men like Ben. She wanted to teach others how to protect themselves online.
As it stood, she did a lot of independent work, but she had also recently just started working for the private security firm run by the Rivers brothers, lending her hand and knowledge on tricky cases.
