Chapter 13
The months passed quickly.
Sabrina’s pregnancy went smoothly. She glowed with happiness. Logan fussed over her, making sure she had everything she needed. They bought a small house not far from mine, with a backyard and a nursery they painted pale yellow.
Margaret and I took things slow.
We dated. We got to know each other again, this time as adults who shared a daughter and a history. We were both cautious, both having been hurt before. But we were also both willing to take a chance on love.
I remodeled the workshop, expanding it to handle the growing demand for my suits. Maria became my partner in the business, bringing in new clients and modernizing our operations. We started a line of custom wedding attire, and it quickly became our most popular service.
Every suit I made was stitched with care, with attention to detail, with the knowledge that what I did mattered. My hands—once a source of shame to Victoria—were now my greatest asset. They created beautiful things. They provided for my family. They held the people I loved.
One evening, six months into Sabrina’s pregnancy, we had a big family dinner to celebrate Margaret’s birthday.
I’d cooked her favorite meal—roast chicken with vegetables, homemade bread, and a chocolate cake I’d baked myself (with a little help from a recipe book).
After dinner, we sat in the living room, drinking coffee and talking.
Sabrina was huge now, her belly round and full of life. She sat on the couch, Logan’s hand resting protectively on her stomach.
“Grandpa,” she said, looking at me. “We’ve been talking about names. If it’s a boy, we like Thomas. After Margaret’s brother. But if it’s a girl... we want to name her Maggie. After Margaret.”
Margaret’s eyes filled with tears.
“That’s beautiful,” she said.
“And we want you two to be the godparents,” Logan added.
Margaret and I looked at each other, then back at them.
“We’d be honored,” I said.
After Sabrina and Logan left, Margaret and I sat on the porch swing, watching the stars come out.
“Glenn,” she said softly.
“Hmm?”
“I’ve been thinking. About the future. About us.”
I turned to look at her.
“Me too,” I said.
She took a deep breath.
“I don’t need a big wedding,” she said. “I don’t need fancy rings or expensive gifts. I just need you. And Sabrina. And this baby that’s coming. And this life we’re building together.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box.
I stared at it.
“I know this is unconventional,” she said. “But I also know you. You’re a man who shows his love through actions, not grand gestures. And I love you for that. So I’m not going to make you ask me. I’m going to ask you.”
She opened the box. Inside was a simple silver band.
“Glenn Bennett,” she said. “Will you marry me?”
I didn’t say anything. I just pulled her close and kissed her.
When we pulled apart, I was smiling.
“Is that a yes?” she asked, laughing.
“That’s a yes,” I said.
I took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
“I do have something for you too,” I said.
I reached into my own pocket and pulled out a small box of my own. I’d had it for weeks, waiting for the right moment.
I opened it. Inside was a ring I’d designed myself—a simple gold band with a small diamond, surrounded by tiny stitches of gold thread, like the stitches in a suit.
Margaret gasped.
“You made this,” she said.
“With my own two hands,” I said. “Every part of it. Just like everything else that matters in my life.”
I slipped the ring onto her finger.
“Margaret Carter,” I said. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “A thousand times yes.”
We sat there on the porch swing for a long time, holding hands, watching the stars, planning our future.
The wedding would be small. Just family and close friends. At the Bayfront Pavilion, of course. Where else?
I’d make my own suit. And Margaret’s dress. And maybe even a little outfit for the baby, who would be born by then.
Life had come full circle.
The place where Victoria had tried to humiliate me, where I’d stood up for myself and for the truth, would now be the place where I married the woman I loved, surrounded by the family I’d built.
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It was better than any fairy tale.
Because it was real.
