El’s eyes are wide with joy. She throws her arms around my neck. “Congratulations.”
Congratulations are in order but this is not the best part. I’m giddy with excitement but somewhat still calm. We get out of the car with our hands linked. The girls are not in sight. They should be ready to leave, if they haven’t already. I don’t want El to meet them at home or it will ruin our plans to leave.
They will stay over at Joshua until the end of the week, then spend the weekend with their grandparents. I haven’t called Vincent yet to update him. We will meet later today to discuss the visiting arrangements. I’ll talk and he will listen. It’s the best he can do since nobody has talked about punishing him for his sins.
To be fair, no one cares anymore. We are glad to move past that dark stage of our life. It’s like we don’t want to confront anything that might ruin this bubble of happiness. Mother thinks he deserves to be in Brianna’s life. Joshua thinks he doesn’t. Father agrees with Mother because that’s what he always does.
I would let Brianna decide but it was never a question for her. She wants her uncle in her life. I want that too. I doubt I can hate him. We are victims of our emotions but I got a happier ending.
Inside the room, I direct her to the bed where she takes a seat. There is another surprise waiting for her. Her foot raps into the floor impatiently. I retrieve the file from the cabinet in the wall. Flipping the pages, my chest pumps with pride at the words written in capital letters at the top of the document. She deserves it.
“Baby, you’re taking too long,” El whines.
“Coming.”
I do a final check of the wardrobe. Our bags are missing as they should. Enzo and Lydia must have carried them after we left. I take a seat beside El and she leans into me. Placing the file on her lap earns me raised brows, she opens the file tentatively. My palms moisten when she flips to the next page.
“What is this?” We didn’t only find a buyer for the club. We sold it. Then I made some calls, a transfer of the funds and another sale with the help of Joshua and El’s assistant. “Brandon, baby. It has my name on it.”
“Yes,” I reply.
El readjusts to increase the gap, she drops the file on the space between us. I am not sure she likes my surprise. I invested the funds in her fashion line. Joshua did most of the work by getting the details from T.
“Did I do good?” My voice cracks. El stated it from the beginning that she didn’t want my help in building her empire. That was then, now, things are better between us. She hides her face behind her palms. “El, tell me.”
Her hands lower. “Brandon.” I bridge the gap and lift her to my lap. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” I whisper. “For you.” It makes no sense to ask a potential investor to step down without a plan to take his place. “I want you to be happy, El.” In our first year of marriage, she worried so much about me and less about herself. “I want all your dreams to come true. I want to help you actualise them.”
“All my dreams have come true.” She rubs her nose against mine. Tears fill her gaze. She smiles. “I have you. I have our girls and...” Her hand runs over her belly in small circles. “And our boys are on the way.”
My heart flutters at her choice of words. In the future I might convince her to have one more so it’s equal. Four males and four females. For now, we will manage the inequality. I place a hand on top of hers.
“So you don’t want to be a billionaire under thirty?” I tease. She smacks my forehead.
Shit. This woman is violent. I pinch her nose.
“Your money is my money,” El says with a look daring me to say otherwise. “Did you forget?”
Of course not. What I have belongs to her. She’s my everything. My soul. My heart. “What’s mine is yours, baby.” El hugs me. For a peaceful moment all we hear are the sounds of our breathing and our unspoken words. When we break apart, I hold her hand to my lips. “I love you, wife. Mi casa, su casa.”
“Thank you, Brandon Stark. Mi casa, su casa.”
Her lips pucker as her eyes scan the contents of the file again, she laughs and shakes her head. My fears die off. She loves my gift. A grin appears on her lips, El hugs the file to her chest. How can one person be this cute? I sweep her off her feet and we head downstairs to avoid her going to the wardrobe. We will leave after I make a final stop.
“Do you want to drive?” I ask, dangling a set of keys in her face. El shrugs. “Fine, I’ll drive.”
“Where are we going?” Lacing our fingers, she brings our conjoined hands to her lips. The radio crackles until she finds a perfect station playing a song. The lyrics describe us perfectly. “Baby, this is our song.”
Our song. I like the sound of that.
“Will you be mine? My beginning, my middle, my end?” El sings along. I heard the song once. But the lyrics hold more meaning now she is here. She crosses her hands over her chest, closes her eyes and belts out the lyrics. “Five years later and I’m still yours. Five years later and you’re still mine.”
Hot tears rush to my eyes. Tears of joy. “One hundred years later and I’ll still be yours,” I yell off-beat. El laughs until she is sobbing hard. I stop by the roadside to make sure my wife is fine. “El. Are you okay?” She hiccups. “What’s going on?”
“I’m just happy.” The song comes to an end and she shuts off the radio. Her hands go over her chest, she wipes a stray tear. “Five years later and we are still here, Brandon. One hundred years later, I’ll still be yours.”
“Even when I’m bald and with no teeth?” I flash my perfect dentition and she slaps my arms.
“You will not be bald.” I frown. “Fine. Even when you’re bald and wrinkly and old and ugly.” No, I won’t be ugly. Father looks good at his age. “You will always be mine, Brandon, as I am yours.” We hold hands like we did at our wedding. El murmurs quietly, “In sickness and in health until death do us part. Amen.”
“Amen.”
The ride resumes but she leaves the radio off. “So where are we going? I want to know.”
“Vincent.” We fixed a meeting. Well, I did. I can’t keep avoiding him. El gives my arm a squeeze. The silence carries her worries. I am fine. I can handle seeing the guy who killed my brother. “It’s okay,” I say, more to myself than her. “You will be there.”
“Yes.” Her attention returns to the road briefly. She runs her fingers over the window, the door, her leg, the dashboard. I chuckle when she trails invisible lines on the console. She is preparing to ask me a question. “Does he know you’re coming?”
“Yeah. He’s waiting for me.”
The rest of the ride continues in silence. We reach the restaurant I chose and I put the car in park. I unbuckle my seatbelt with shaky hands. El is quiet. Her body tilts towards me and my fingers latch into her hair to seek solace.
She cups my jaw. “If you need me to beat him up, just say the word, okay?” Her face is so serious, I take one long look at her and her lips twitch. We burst out laughing at the same time. “Are you really fine with this… this meeting?” My brow shoots up. It feels like she has been waiting for me to explode with anger. To punish him for all those years. “Why aren’t you mad at him? It’s freaking me out a bit.”
I pull her lip between mine and release it with a pop. “Revenge is exhausting, El.” As someone who spent most part of his life planning revenge, I know how it works. You have to always be a step ahead of your opponent. It’s a continuous, vicious cycle that often ends in tears. “I am tired, same with him.” Vincent has to be tired, if he’s not, then he is on his own. “It’s no use punishing him again. I’m relieved.”
“I’m relieved too.” She plants a kiss on my nose. “I think it might take a while for me to adjust...”
To adjust to seeing the man who constantly donates to charity as a killer. Maybe that was his penance. Mine was self-sabotage. I believed I didn’t deserve any good things. I hold El’s hands and kiss the heels of her palms.
“You once asked me if I loved myself, do you remember?” El tilts her head. Her careful gaze is on me like a Mother hen. “I have the answer now.” She nods again. “I do. I love myself.” Therapy made me understand one thing. If I don’t love myself, I will never love other people the right way. I can’t pour from an empty cup. “I love the man I have become and the man I will grow to be. I deserve you, El.”
Tears stream down her cheeks. Mine are dry but I am happy. I mean every word coming out of me. “I deserve our girls. I deserve our boys.” The corners of my eyes burn with unshed tears. My heart is fine. We are okay now. “I deserve happiness too. It took a while to realise it but I know it now. Of all the stars, you are the brightest and you make me shine. I love you, Elna Amahle Stark.”