Midnight Sommelier - Anne Malcom Page 0,72

worth it.

Epilogue

One Year Later

“Hey, David,” I said, my voice a whisper. I didn’t know why I was whispering. We were in a cemetery, and it’s not like I was going to wake anybody up. I was the only living person here.

Wasn’t that the rule, you were meant to speak in quiet, grief-ridden tones when you were visiting the graves of those you had lost?

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around more,” I said louder now, feeling stupid.

I wasn’t exactly the spiritual, religious kind of person. I had the unfortunate belief that when you were dead, you were gone. Maybe it was a coping mechanism from losing my parents so quickly.

Whatever it was, it gave me the belief that they weren’t watching over me, so I didn’t hold on to them. It was better that way—a clean break and all.

David was all about visiting graves, believing there was an afterlife. For his sake, I hoped there was.

“If you’ve been ‘watching over me,’” I said in air quotes, “I’m sure you know why I haven’t been to visit. If you are actually out there somewhere, I really hope you don’t hate me. I hope you understand that I might’ve moved on, but I’ll never forget you.”

I fingered the ring I was now wearing on my left hand. Not the one he gave me. I’d had it redesigned so the diamond was clustered with others in the choker that I always wore around my neck. So I always had the two men I loved on my skin.

My engagement ring from Zeke was nothing like what David got me, which made sense, since I had been in love with two completely different men.

David was wealth, elegance, traditional.

Zeke was edge, danger, unique.

A black diamond sat on my ring finger. Emerald cut. Solitaire. It was striking on my hand; it seemed to weigh it down and lift it up at the same time. There were no roses like when David proposed. No positive pregnancy test—we were done with kids. No, there was me, waking up to something cold and heavy being slipped on my finger, and something warm and gentle on my neck.

“I know this is the second time you’re doin’ this. I know that you have a lot of feelings about it. What people think.” His voice was rough, not with sleep but with emotion. He’d been awake for a while.

I knew what was happening, but I didn’t want to open them. Didn’t want to make it real. I wanted to linger in a dream.

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” he continued, kissing my chin. “You don’t have to wear this.” His hand circled the ring he’d placed on my finger. The one that fit perfectly. “I don’t need the ceremony of it all. You can keep your last name. Just want you to be mine. Even if no one else knows.”

I wouldn’t have pegged Zeke as someone who needed a marriage certificate to consider me his. But maybe there was some vulnerability there knowing I would always be in love with a dead man. Would always belong to him in some way.

Parts of me rebelled against the proposal, about the idea of belonging to someone else. Someone who could leave me like David did.

But other parts ached for this—ached for a life with this man. One that I’d never expected, never would’ve planned, but wanted just the same.

“Yes,” I said on a whisper, eyes still closed.

Then he kissed me.

Then he did a lot more than kiss me.

So now I was engaged, and I thought it was only proper to visit my husband’s grave for the first time since I’d buried him here.

“You’d like him,” I said. “You wouldn’t want to like him—he’s not exactly your kind of guy on the outside at least. But he knows good wine. He treats his daughter well. Treats me well. Treats our sons well...” I trailed off, my voice breaking. I didn’t cry though. It would be too cliché to cry at my husband’s graveside.

That wasn’t what this was about.

“I love you,” I said. “I miss you, every day, every moment. I just want you to know that I’m okay. I’m happy. Apart from monthly dinners with your mother. She loves me being engaged to an ex-biker, let me tell you.” I paused, leaning forward to lay my hand on the cool stone.

Nothing came from it. No voices from the grave. No peace. Closure.

It was just stone.

“Rest easy, David.” I fingered the diamond at my throat. “You’ll always be