Page 99 of Whatever It Takes

He opened up the box. I leaned forward to see the sparkling diamonds in a white gold band dancing in the light. There was a large oval shaped diamond in the middle, with two smaller round stones on either side. It was beautiful.

“This ring represents the past, the present, and the future. The first diamond is from your original ring.”

“It’s perfect,” I said in between sobs. Seeing my old stone sitting next to my new ones had everything coming full circle.

He pulled the ring out of the box and slid it onto my shaking finger. His smile was big. “Now, we are officially engaged.”

My heart hammered in my chest feeling overloaded with happiness. I was also in shock. Even though he proposed on the beach a few short weeks ago, I wasn’t expecting this.

The house, the ring, the baby, my thoughts were endless and excited about what the future held.

My tears were so heavy, it was a miracle that I could even see. “I love you, Quinn. Thank you for bringing out the best parts of me. Thank you for giving me more than I had ever dreamed of.” I brought his face to mine. “And thank you for making me see that I didn’t have to settle for less. Not when I could have something much greater. You, this house, a family together…It’s everything.”

He captured a few tears and stared down at my hand. “You finally have my ring back on your finger.”

I reached up and threaded my arms around his neck. “Everything is finally right where it belongs.”

He lifted me up and spun me around before bringing me back to his arms. He held my hand out and tilted it to the side, staring at the ring in awe. “Promise me you’ll never take this off.”

The vulnerability in his voice had me choking back another sob. “I promise for better or for worse. You’re stuck with me forever.”

He took my face in his hands and kissed me. My heart was overflowing with happiness. I’m so glad that he never gave up on me and that I followed my heart. Because this single moment right here was the happiest day of my life.

* * *

Ten Months Later

I walked up the steps to the courthouse with my head down, trying not to draw attention to myself. There was a large crowd gathered outside. It had been eleven long months since Grant was captured, and today was the day he would learn his fate. Quinn held my hand in a firm, supportive grip. His posture was stiff as we made our way into the courtroom.

While the crowd was there to ensure that Grant got what was coming to him, there was still an uneasy air of judgment that followed us. I could almost hear the whispers and the sneers.

The comments online were out there for the whole world to see. About how convenient it was that I moved on so quickly. That I gave birth to another man’s child two months after my divorce was finalized. That I was already engaged to be married and that my son was born out of wedlock. But I didn’t care. These people didn’t know me. They didn’t know about all the sleepless nights that I spent crying into my pillow. They couldn’t comprehend the hell that Grant dragged me through or all the times where I held my daughter, doing my best to reassure her that everything would be okay in the end.

Most of all, they didn’t know that being with Quinn was my destiny.

These past few months had been one thing after another, and it was a miracle that I was still standing.

We walked up the aisle in the courtroom and took our seats behind the prosecutor’s table when Grant entered the room.

The crowd began to whisper in a collective rumble as unease grew in the pit of my stomach the moment our eyes met. As much as I wanted to pretend that seeing him didn’t faze me, I couldn’t control the shiver that ran up my spine.

Grant’s eyes shifted from mine to the man sitting next to me. His steps faltered and his lips tightened. His normally warm brown eyes turned to cold steel. The sheriff guiding him into the courtroom had to use his muscles to push him past the prosecutor’s desk where he seemed to just want to pause and glare at the two of us.

After a brief hesitation the officer guided him to the defense table where he pushed down on his shoulders, forcing him to take a seat.

His parents and brother were seated directly in back of him. Their faces bore a look of worry only a parent who loved their child could give. I knew how painful this was for them, to sit quietly, wondering silently how things could have gone so wrong for the son they raised.

The crowd grew quiet when the judge entered the courtroom.

The bailiff spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Please rise, the courtroom of the Honorable Judge Bednarski is now in session.”

With three taps of the gavel, the judge asked everyone to be quiet and be seated.

The next sound was the squeak of the hardwood chair dragging across the floor as Grant’s defense attorney moved to stand in front of the judge.

“Your honor, on behalf of my client, Grant Anderson, we have accepted the District Attorney’s plea offer of guilty to five counts of First-Degree Vehicular Manslaughter.”

A collective gasp came from the audience, and I heard Grant’s mother quietly start to sob.

Grant knew the odds of successfully winning a jury trial, so in order to avoid a prosecutor’s threat, a potential legal maneuver that could have landed him a life sentence, he agreed to plead out.

After the judge asked Grant to confirm his plea, and after the families of his victims read their statements, Grant was sentenced to twenty-five years behind bars, until he would be eligible for parole.

Quinn squeezed my hand, and I closed my eyes, thankful that this chapter of my life was over.

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