“Most people think the name is an advantage.” Chandler, poor thing, managed to sound brave despite himself.
“Indeed, I’m sure they do.”
“Dad,” Genevieve chided. “You are being awfully you right now when I was just praising you for not being you.”
My husband smirked, which his daughter responded to with an equally childish sigh.
“Fine, let’s discuss this then.” Edward crossed one arm over his chest, his flute held up with the other. “How could I possibly argue about your age? I married Genevieve’s mother when I was younger than you both by a few years, even though perhaps that isn’t a good example since we ended in divorce. On the other hand, Celia and I had known each other far less time than you when we got engaged, and whether she likes it or not, she’s stuck with me.”
His glance at me was playful with the hint of a wink without actually moving his eyelid. “As for the name…” Here Edward grew eerily sober. “Chandler knows full well it won’t stop me from killing him with my bare hands if he ever hurts you. Don’t you, Chandler?”
Chandler swallowed. “Uh. I do now.”
A chill ran down my spine. Edward was considered formidable for a reason—he was as much bite as he was bark. Even now when I suspected he was pulling the kid’s leg, I couldn’t help remembering Camilla and her abusive husband. Edward had killed Frank, I was sure of it, and maybe it was justified, but was murder ever really justified?
I wished I knew the story. It was a secret he refused to tell since I had a secret of my own, and I’d gotten used to ignoring the burning want to know for the most part, but today, I desperately wished I had answers. It might calm the terrifying certainty that, though I was sure Edward meant for his words to be taken in jest, he was actually being quite sincere.
“Dad!” Genevieve said with a laugh, breaking the tension knotting in my belly. “Stop it. Please. You’re scaring my fiancé.”
Finally, Edward caved, a grin breaking out on his face. “In all seriousness, blessings to you both. I’m very happy for you. And maybe sometime Chandler can tell me how he gets away with calling you Genny.”
She nuzzled into Chandler. “It doesn’t sound the same when he says it as when you do. Out of your lips, it makes me feel like I’m seven years old. Out of his…” She blushed, making it apparent the nickname had become special between them.
“It’s very exciting,” I said, stepping in so she wouldn’t have to say more in front of her father. “And I’m so thrilled for both of you. Truly. Now tell us everything about how it happened. I’m dying to hear the details.”
An hour later, after we’d finished the champagne and heard the story twice—once from Genevieve then almost entirely again from Chandler with Genevieve frequently interjecting to comment, the conversation began to die down and the couple made innuendos about calling it a night.
“Thanks again for the bubbles,” Chandler said, setting down his empty glass. “They really stock the good stuff here, don’t they?”
“No, actually, they don’t,” Edward laughed. “I’d purchased it Friday for other celebratory reasons.”
“Oh. Did we…?” Chandler’s ears went red, obviously afraid he’d made some gaffe. “I feel bad about taking your champagne. Not if you were saving it for something important.”
“Stop it,” I said, feeling pleasantly tipsy. “We’d rather share it with family. We can get another bottle, or better yet, we’ll wrap that celebration into this one and call it good.”
Genevieve was the one who thought to ask. “What was the occasion?”
Edward looked to me, giving me the opportunity to decide what I wanted said. I appreciated it. And I also didn’t. There had been a time when he would have made these decisions for me, when he would have taken more of a dominant role in our relationship. He still cared for me in all the ways he once had, choosing my clothes and helping me with my agenda, just now he deferred more to me for my opinion. He didn’t command anymore, he suggested.
Maybe he thought he was being a better man by giving me more space of my own. It was true that I’d grown stronger and more capable since the days after he’d broken me down. This might very well be the next step in building me up again, and I was forever grateful for that. But I missed the way we used to be and desperately hoped we would find our way back to some form of that eventually.
Meanwhile, it was up to me to answer. “My uncle’s trial is over. Or, it’s almost over. The Crown Court found him guilty on several charges on Friday. Now we’re just waiting for sentencing.”
God, it felt better to say than I’d realized it would. I hadn’t had a reason to verbalize it since I’d found out since Edward had been with me when the verdict had come through. He’d been the only person I’d discussed it with at all so far, partially because I couldn’t imagine who else I would talk to about it. I’d avoided my parents, not wanting to hear my father lament about injustice that I related to far better than he ever could. Edward had called Camilla, but I had let them talk alone rather than jumping in.
Beyond not having anyone to speak to about it, I hadn’t quite known how it would come out if I did. It felt like a weight had been removed that I hadn’t realized I was still carrying. I’d thought that I had unloaded everything Ron-related by now, so it was surprising to feel I still had more to set down. And as good as it felt to finally be free of that, it also made me strangely sad. I’d spent the better part of Saturday crying off and on about it, and Edward had been a saint, taking care of Cleo by himself since it was Elsa’s day off, bringing her only when she needed to nurse, and I needed to cuddle.
Today, I felt much better. The grieving was over, and now there was only release in its place. It sort of felt like floating, like a feather in the wind, rising and falling with each gust, never touching the ground.
“Will the US extradite him?” Genevieve asked. We hadn’t told her much about my past with Ron, but she was a smart cookie. She knew.
“Not unless the sentence he gets is minimal. Which it could be, and that would be a whole other nightmare, but there’s also a real good chance it will be severe.”
“Oh, Celia. What a relief!”
Chandler seemed still in the dark, but he was gracious all the same.“You must be grateful to have that media circus finally done with.”
“I am. I am.” Tears pricked at my eyes, much different than the ones that had overtook me the day before. I blinked them away. “But I’d much rather focus on your celebration instead. Have you picked a date yet? Please, say it isn’t too soon. You have to leave time to let me throw an engagement party in your honor.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I don’t have to. I want to.”
“I’m so flattered.” Her own eyes looked glossy. “And, after the amazing event you threw for my graduation, I would be a fool to turn you down. But don’t you want to be getting back to London now that the trial is done? I don’t want to keep you here any longer than need be. I know you’ve been quite homesick.”