Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Lyam and I stroll up the beautiful pathway bordered by Avril’s stunning flowers, hand in hand. I’m reminded of when he picked me up at the airport. How very different our walk together looked then. And now… now we’ve made peace with our pasts and look together toward our future.
We haven’t told anyone our plans yet. We wanted some time to savor the knowledge that he proposed to me and that I said yes. During one of our romantic dates, he took me to a jewelry store in the city and we picked out my bague de fiançailles. My engagement ring.
Our plan is to set things right again, to make a family of our own. I know what he does and who he is… and he knows me.
I considered getting an unorthodox ring, something to signify our unique union together. But when the time came, I fell for a stunning diamond set in rose gold, an elongated, pointed oval shape.
“A marquise cut,” the jeweler said. “A classic choice. A popular cut of diamond, mademoiselle, but it can sometimes chip because of the fragile edges. One must choose a high-quality diamond to prevent such a tragedy.”
Lyam and I shared a smile, before he forked over more money than I’ve ever seen in my life. For a ring. When I gave him shit about it, he only shook his head.
“I spend my money on what I want to spend my money on. If that’s on Paris’s most expensive macarons or a late-night flight to visit our friends in Tuscany, or a marquise-cut diamond the size of my hand, I’ll do it. Got it?”
I smile and melt a little. “Fine, then, spend your money on me and spoil me a little, as long as you promise not to spoil our child. Spoiled children are entitled, Lyam.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he says soberly. “No spoiling the baby.”
I’ll believe that when I see it.
Avril meets us by the front steps, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh my God, look how gorgeous you are! Look at that little baby bump! Please, can I touch your belly for good luck?”
I laugh out loud. “Of course.”
She gently pats my belly and her eyes mist over. “I miss being pregnant, though I’ll tell you, those sons of mine were all kickers.” We start up the front steps while she regales us with tales of her sons’ Herculean efforts and supernatural strength in utero. Of course, I’m not surprised.
We enter the house and I stare, uncomprehending, for a few moments.
I expected the others would be here, and the front entryway might have its traditional oversized vases filled with fragrant blooms.
But…no.
Lyam comes up behind me, a warm wall of protection at my back. His hand goes around my ample belly and he tucks my head under his chin.
He whispers in my ear. “Happy birthday, Cossette.”
Savannah and Thayer, Nicolette and Fabien, all their friends and family and acquaintances, stand smiling with flutes of bubbly. Golden letters glitter beneath overhead lighting heralding a message:
Happy Birthday.
They’re… looking at me.
Me.
I stare at them all before I swivel my gaze back to Lyam. “Lyam,” I say in a choked voice. “Did you… did you have anything to do with this?”
“With what?” he says, as he grabs two flutes of champagne from a tray as staff mulls around plying everyone with champagne. “I’ll take hers, too.”
Avril grins. “Of course he did!” She leans in and whispers in my ear, “He told me you’ve never had a birthday party, love. And it’s our pleasure to give you your first.”
I’m at a loss for words. Whereas others see this family as dangerous and threatening, I know better.
I know they’re loyal and they love fiercely and I need fierce. Here, I belong.
They are my family and I am theirs.
Savannah grins. “Did you forget it was your birthday? You look stunned.”
“Um, maybe?”
I have barely even looked at a calendar, between prenatal appointments, our romantic dates, and the new work Lyam’s taken over in Paris. Plus, our trips all over Europe now that my nausea’s abated. Not to mention preparing for our wedding.
I never paid attention to my birthday because no one ever made it special for me.
Everyone laughs. Savannah grins at me, and my heart swells at the knowledge that she’s not only forgiven me, but she’s my friend now. Lyam holds my hand as we walk together, flanked by friends and family.
“Oooh,” I breathe when we look at the room overflowing with good food and an actual quartet playing string instruments.
A table laden with the best pastries France has to offer showcases all my favorites, the largest tray in the center piled with whimsical, pastel-colored, round macarons. The dining room’s been transformed into a party room with round tables decked in white cloths, each centerpiece overflowing with beautiful flowers from Avril’s garden. Every place is set with careful attention to detail—delicate, butter-colored napkins to match bouquets of flowers in yellow and white, elegant plates waiting to be filled.