He Canceled Their Wedding as a Prank, So She Married the Mafia Godfather Before the Courthouse Closed
“To prove a point.”
“What point?”
“That you need your own life.”
Lucas leaned closer.
“You revolve around me. You text me about meals. You ask when I’m coming home. You schedule everything around us.”
Diana almost laughed.
“You asked me to.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Behind them, Mark chuckled.
“How long can Diana stay mad anyway?”
Lucas smiled despite himself.
“Three hours.”
The room erupted again.
Diana went perfectly still.
Mark grinned.
“Seriously?”
“Maximum.”
Lucas leaned back.
“She’ll be texting by dinner asking whether I ate.”
Another friend laughed.
“Remember that night at Mason’s?”
Lucas nodded.
“I told her we’d finish at ten. We changed bars and I forgot to tell her.”
“You didn’t forget.”
Lucas smirked.
“Okay. I didn’t exactly rush.”
The laughter returned.
“She waited outside in the rain until after midnight,” Lucas continued. “When I finally came out, she didn’t even yell.”
He looked at Diana almost fondly.
“She asked whether I was cold.”
Something inside Diana finally died.
Not shattered.
Died.
Quietly.
Completely.
He had remembered.
Every sacrifice.
Every humiliation.
Every moment she had chosen kindness.
He had remembered all of it.
He just hadn’t respected any of it.
Her phone buzzed.
Edward.
Two blocks away.
Lucas’s phone rang at the same moment.
He ignored it and picked up a bottle of water.
“Here.”
Diana didn’t take it.
“Diana, enough. We can do this tomorrow.”
“I’m doing it today.”
His eyes narrowed.
“With Edward?”
“With whoever is standing beside me when my number is called.”
For the first time, Lucas looked nervous.
Then Diana’s mother called.
She answered.
“Hi, Mom.”
Her mother sounded delighted.
“Everything done?”
Diana closed her eyes.
In the background she could hear dishes and her father arguing with someone about whether venison needed another ten minutes in the oven.
“I made Lucas that grilled trout he likes,” her mother said. “Your apple pie is cooling. Your brother brought champagne. Come home before your father eats everything.”
Diana swallowed.
“Mom…”
Lucas suddenly took the phone.
“Mrs. Whitmore, it’s Lucas.”
Diana stared at him.
He laughed lightly.
“Diana’s throwing a little fit. Nothing serious. We’re probably getting lunch with friends instead.”
Her mother hesitated.
“Oh. Well… I can pack everything. Should I send some food over?”
Lucas hung up.
Not goodbye.
Not thank you.
Just ended the call.
Mark snorted.
“Your mother really wants this marriage, huh?”
Diana slowly turned.
Mark grinned.
“Maybe the Whitmores should just put Lucas in the will and save everybody the trouble.”
A few people laughed.
Cindy whispered, “Mark, stop.”
He kept going.
“She’s been feeding us for three years because she’s terrified her daughter won’t land the guy.”
Diana crossed the space between them and slapped him.
The crack echoed through the lobby.
Mark staggered.
Lucas jumped up.
“What the hell, Diana?”
“Say one more thing about my mother.”
Mark stared at her.
Diana’s voice dropped.
“Just one.”
Lucas grabbed her wrist.
“That’s enough.”
Diana looked down at his hand.
Then up at him.
“No.”
She pulled free.
The courthouse speaker announced the final call for appointments.
Lucas glanced toward the exit.
“Come on. Everyone’s hungry.”
Diana stared.
“My mother has been cooking since six this morning.”
“So?”
His answer was immediate.
“She can cook again.”
Something passed across Cindy’s face.
Even Mark looked away.
Lucas apparently didn’t notice.
“It’s just lunch, Diana. We didn’t even get married today.”
“I asked you for ten more minutes.”
Lucas exhaled.
“And I said tomorrow.”
His friends had already begun gathering their coats.
Lucas reached for hers.
“When you calm down, meet us at Maison Rouge.”
Diana didn’t move.
“I’m staying.”
Mark laughed.
“Five bucks says she follows us in five minutes.”
“Three,” someone said.
Lucas smirked.
Then looked back at Diana.
“Don’t make me wait too long.”
They left.
Even Cindy.
Diana watched the doors close behind them.
Her hands began trembling only after the lobby went silent.
She hated that.
She hated that part of herself still wanted Lucas to come back.
To burst through those doors.
To say he understood.
To choose her once.
Just once.
The clock showed 11:58.
A security guard began pulling one of the entrance ropes across the doorway.
Then someone shouted from outside.
“Wait!”
A tall man in a charcoal suit ducked beneath the rope.
His black overcoat was unbuttoned.
His usually immaculate hair had fallen forward from running.
A leather document folder was tucked beneath one arm.
Edward Moretti stopped in front of Diana, breathing hard.
He looked exactly as dangerous as she remembered.
And much more human.
“Diana.”
She stood.
Edward searched her face.
He didn’t ask why she had called after three years.
He didn’t ask what Lucas had done.
He asked only one thing.
“Are you sure?”
Diana’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
“Are you using me to punish him?”
“No.”
“Are you choosing me?”
She looked at the clock.
Then back at Edward.
“Yes.”
Edward nodded once.
“Then let’s get married.”
They reached the counter with less than a minute left.
And at 12:04 p.m., while Lucas Barrett was ordering French wine and telling his friends Diana would come running after him, Diana Whitmore signed her name beside Edward Moretti’s.
When the clerk handed them the certificate, Edward studied it as though it were something fragile.
Then he looked at Diana.
“Do you want to keep this private?”
Diana thought about Lucas laughing.
Mark filming.
Cindy watching.
Her mother waking before dawn to cook for a man who couldn’t even say goodbye before hanging up.
“No.”
She took a picture of the certificate.
Edward raised an eyebrow.
Diana posted it.
Married before closing. Bringing my husband home for Mom’s apple pie.
Then she turned off her phone.
At Maison Rouge, Lucas was halfway through telling the story of Diana’s airport disaster when Mark’s phone buzzed.
Mark looked down.
His grin disappeared.
“What?”
Lucas reached for his glass.
Mark didn’t answer.
Cindy leaned over his shoulder.
Her face went white.
“Oh my God.”
Lucas frowned.
“What?”
Mark turned the phone.
On the screen was Diana.
Beside Edward Moretti.
Between them was a Cook County marriage certificate.
Lucas laughed once.
But nobody joined him.
“That’s fake.”
Cindy whispered, “It’s not.”
“You can Photoshop anything.”
“The date is today.”
Lucas snatched the phone.
He zoomed in.
Diana Whitmore.
Edward Moretti.
His chest tightened.
“No.”
Mark tried to smile.
“She’s messing with you.”
Lucas called Diana.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
He stood so fast his chair toppled backward.
“We’re going back.”
Mark grabbed his arm.
“Lucas, don’t fall for it.”
Lucas ripped free.
“Now.”
They reached the courthouse minutes later.
Diana and Edward were descending the stone steps.
Edward carried Diana’s handbag.
Her hand rested lightly around his arm.
Lucas stopped.
Something ugly twisted inside him.
“Diana.”
She kept walking.
“Diana, come here.”
The command was automatic.
For three years, it had always worked.
She stopped.
But she didn’t come.
Edward stepped slightly in front of her.
“Mr. Barrett.”
Lucas’s eyes moved to him.
“Stay out of this.”
Edward’s voice remained calm.
“She’s my wife.”
Lucas hit him.
The punch landed across Edward’s jaw.
Diana’s handbag dropped.
The marriage certificate slid onto the pavement.
Lucas saw it.
Everything inside him seemed to stop.
Edward bent to retrieve it.
Lucas reached too.
Edward got there first.
“This belongs to my wife.”
Lucas swung again.
Diana slapped him.
Hard.
Lucas froze.
His head remained turned for several seconds.
Mark shouted, “Are you insane?”
Lucas slowly looked back at Diana.
“You hit me.”
“You hit my husband.”
The word husband visibly wounded him.
Mark pointed at Edward.
“Ten minutes ago she was begging Lucas to marry her.”
“I never begged him.”
“You built your entire life around him!”
Diana stared at Mark.
“Yes.”
He laughed triumphantly.
Edward remained silent.
Diana continued.
“And that was my mistake.”
Mark’s expression changed.
“Edward should know what he married. You brought Lucas hangover medicine. You drove him everywhere. You memorized everybody’s birthdays. You practically served his whole friend group.”
Diana stepped closer and slapped Mark across the other cheek.
Mark stumbled backward.
“That one,” she said, “was for insulting my husband while pretending my kindness was something shameful.”
Mark lifted his hand.
Edward caught his wrist.
His voice turned icy.
“Don’t.”
Mark swallowed.
Edward released him.
Lucas stared at Diana as if he had never seen her before.
“It was a joke.”
Diana looked at him.
“No.”
“I never intended to leave you.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I was teaching you a lesson.”
“A joke is funny to both people, Lucas.”
He had no answer.
Diana turned toward the parking lot.
Lucas called after her.
“Wait.”
She stopped.
His friends began talking at once.
“She’s doing this to scare you.”
“She’ll get it annulled tomorrow.”
“Edward’s obviously her rebound.”
Lucas suddenly shouted, “Shut up!”
Everyone fell silent.
He turned on Mark.
“Why did you insult her mother?”
Mark blinked.
“What?”
“I said, why did you insult her mother?”
Mark looked incredulous.
“Because we were joking.”
“Why did you film her?”
“You were standing there.”
Lucas’s jaw tightened.
Mark laughed bitterly.
“Oh, don’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend you’re suddenly the good guy.”
Lucas went still.
Mark stepped closer.
“You told us she’d never leave.”
Nobody moved.
“You said we didn’t have to worry about crossing lines because Diana always came back.”
Lucas’s face drained.
“You said she liked taking care of everybody.”
Mark’s voice grew harsher.
“You said if we pushed too far, you’d calm her down afterward.”
Diana watched Lucas absorb his own words.
Every one of them.
Lucas whispered, “Stop.”
But Mark had spent the morning being humiliated, and now he wanted someone else bleeding too.
“You trained us to treat her like a joke.”
Lucas closed his eyes.
“And now you’re mad because she finally believed you.”
Silence.
Mark walked away.
The others followed.
Cindy remained.
She approached Diana carefully.
“I really am sorry.”
Diana looked at her.
Cindy cried.
“I never thought you’d actually leave him.”
“That’s why you helped.”
Cindy flinched.
“You knew today mattered to me.”
“I know.”
“You watched me prepare for months.”
“I know.”
“You let me walk into that courthouse thinking my best friend was there to celebrate me.”
Cindy wiped her face.
“I know.”
Diana removed Cindy from her contacts.
“Then there’s nothing else to explain.”
Cindy left crying.
Only Lucas remained.
He looked suddenly smaller.
“Diana.”
She waited.
“I’m sorry.”
For the first time in three years, he didn’t add a but.
He didn’t say she was sensitive.
He didn’t say everyone was joking.
He simply looked broken.
“I’m sorry.”
Diana nodded.
“I believe you.”
Hope flashed across his face.
“But it’s too late.”
He stepped closer.
“No. It doesn’t have to be.”
Edward stayed beside her but didn’t interfere.
Lucas’s voice cracked.
“I’ll fix it.”
“How?”
“I’ll cut them off.”
“That won’t fix what you did.”
“I’ll apologize to your mother.”
“That won’t undo how you treated her.”
“I’ll change.”
Diana studied him.
“You don’t miss me yet.”
Lucas froze.
“You miss certainty.”
“What?”
“You were certain I would never leave.”
His eyes filled.
“You’re not standing here because you suddenly understand love. You’re standing here because for the first time, your actions had a consequence you couldn’t control.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
Lucas reached for her.
She stepped beside Edward.
Lucas looked at the marriage certificate in Edward’s hand.
Then at Diana.
“If I hadn’t canceled the appointment…”
Diana answered honestly.
“I would have married you.”
The words seemed to destroy him.
She continued.
“But you did cancel it.”
Lucas lowered his head.
“And that was the first honest thing you gave me in three years.”
He looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“You showed me exactly how little my dignity meant to you.”
Diana took Edward’s hand.
“So I believed you.”
They walked away.
This time, Lucas didn’t follow.
Diana took Edward to a private medical clinic to have his jaw examined.
Nothing was broken.
When they finally reached the Whitmore estate outside Lake Forest, Diana’s mother came running from the house.
“You’re finally—”
She stopped when she saw Edward.
Then his bruised jaw.
Then Diana’s hand in his.
Edward offered her a respectful smile.
“Mrs. Whitmore.”
Diana’s mother stared.
“Edward?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What happened to your face?”
“Lucas hit him,” Diana said.
Her mother’s expression became murderous.
“He did what?”
“Mom.”
“I’m calling your father.”
“No.”
Diana caught her arm.
“Not today.”
Her mother looked between them.
Diana took out the marriage certificate.
“I married Edward.”
Her mother went silent.
Then sat down on the nearest chair.
Edward looked alarmed.
“Should I get water?”
Diana almost laughed.
Her mother stared at the certificate.
Then at Diana.
Then she started crying.
Diana knelt.
“Mom.”
Her mother hugged her.
“Are you okay?”
That question nearly broke Diana more than the entire morning had.
“I will be.”
Her mother held her face.
“Did you want this?”
Diana looked back at Edward.
He wasn’t watching her with expectation.
He wasn’t waiting for gratitude.
He simply stood there.
Ready to accept whatever answer she gave.
“Yes.”
Her mother nodded slowly.
“Then come eat.”
Inside, the dining room table was covered with food.
Diana’s mother spotted the trout.
Her expression soured.
“That was Lucas’s favorite.”
She grabbed the serving dish.
“Throw it away.”
Edward intercepted it.
“Please don’t.”
She blinked.
“You don’t have to eat it.”
“I know.”
Edward put the dish back.
“But you spent all morning cooking.”
He sat beside Diana.
“Nothing made with that much care should be wasted because the wrong man failed to appreciate it.”
Diana’s mother stared at him.
Then smiled for the first time.
She served him soup.
“What does Diana like?”
Edward glanced at Diana.
“I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t know anymore.”
Her mother placed a slice of cinnamon apple pie in front of him.
“This.”
Edward took the information with the seriousness of a business briefing.
“Understood.”
Diana laughed.
A real laugh.
And for the first time that day, nobody laughed at her.
They laughed with her.
Lucas appeared at the Whitmore gates that evening.
Diana found him standing beside a cardboard box filled with things she had left at his apartment.
A spare key.
Three photo albums.
A sweater.
The expensive tie clip she had bought for their second anniversary that he had never opened.
Lucas looked exhausted.
“I’ve been here an hour.”
“You should have called.”
“You blocked me.”
“Yes.”
He glanced toward the house.
“Is he inside?”
“My husband?”
Lucas flinched.
“Yes.”
“He’s with my family.”
Lucas swallowed.
“I made Mark delete every video.”
Diana said nothing.
“I left the group chat.”
Nothing.
“I told everyone I’m done with them.”
Diana folded her arms.
“Why?”
“Because they disrespected you.”
“They learned how from you.”
Lucas looked down.
“I know.”
He pulled a velvet box from his coat.
Diana recognized it immediately.
Six months earlier, she had helped design the ring inside.
Lucas had accused her of pressuring him when the jeweler sent a confirmation.
He had told her to cancel it.
Now he opened the box.
The diamond caught the porch light.
“I was going to surprise you.”
Diana looked at the receipt tucked beneath the ring.
Pickup date.
That morning.
“You bought it today.”
Lucas froze.
“I ordered it before.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Diana—”
“Stop lying.”
His face collapsed.
She looked at the ring.
“You bought it after you saw the photo.”
He shut the box.
“I panicked.”
“I know.”
“I realized I was losing you.”
“You had already lost me.”
He stared at the ground.
After a moment, he asked, “Is he good to you?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve known him for one day.”
“No.”
Diana shook her head.
“I knew Edward before I knew you. I just never gave him a chance because I thought what I felt for you was more important.”
Lucas’s voice sharpened.
“He doesn’t know you.”
“Maybe not.”
“He doesn’t know you get stomach pain when you’re stressed.”
Diana said nothing.
“He doesn’t know you hate cold bedrooms. He doesn’t know you can’t sleep when thunderstorms are loud. He doesn’t know you drink coffee too late even though it makes you anxious.”
Diana looked at him sadly.
“You knew all of that.”
Lucas’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“And still let me wait outside in a thunderstorm until midnight.”
That silenced him.
“You knew me, Lucas.”
Her voice softened.
“That was never the problem.”
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Edward approached.
He stopped when he saw Lucas.
“Diana?”
“I’m fine.”
Edward remained a few feet away.
Lucas looked at him.
“I just need five minutes.”
Edward looked at Diana.
Not Lucas.
“If she wants to give them to you.”
Lucas’s jaw tightened.
Diana appreciated that more than Edward could know.
Lucas turned back.
“Do I have any chance?”
“No.”
His face crumpled.
“You loved me.”
“I did.”
“Three years, Diana.”
“I know.”
“You can’t stop loving somebody in one morning.”
She thought about that.
“No.”
Lucas inhaled sharply.
Then she continued.
“But you can finally stop betraying yourself for them.”
He looked away.
“I would do anything.”
“You already had every chance.”
“One more.”
“I gave you one more every time I forgave you.”
Lucas closed his eyes.
“Every apology was a chance.”
She stepped back toward Edward.
“You used them all.”
The ring box slipped from Lucas’s fingers.
It hit the stone driveway.
He bent slowly to retrieve it.
“If he ever hurts you…”
Diana interrupted.
“No.”
Lucas looked up.
“If he ever hurts you, call me.”
“No.”
“Diana—”
“My marriage doesn’t need you waiting in the background for it to fail.”
He had no answer.
Diana took Edward’s hand.
They walked inside.
A week later, Diana stood in a small bridal suite overlooking Lake Michigan.
She had expected her wedding to feel strange.
Rushed.
Reckless.
Instead, it felt quiet.
Edward had refused to let their families turn the ceremony into a political spectacle.
No enormous ballroom.
No thousand-person guest list.
No newspaper announcement.
Just family.
Close friends.
White roses.
Candlelight.
And cinnamon apple pie on the dessert table because Edward had apparently decided that one detail was non-negotiable.
Before sending the invitations, he had asked Diana a question.
“Do you actually want a wedding?”
She had stared at him.
“We’re already married.”
“I know.”
“You don’t want one?”
“I want whatever you want.”
“What if I said nothing?”
“We’d do nothing.”
“What if I wanted two hundred guests?”
“I’d invite two hundred.”
“What if I wanted to disappear to Montana?”
“I’d buy hiking boots.”
Diana had laughed.
Edward hadn’t.
He was serious.
That was when she understood the difference.
Lucas had always demanded proof that Diana loved him.
Edward kept asking whether she felt free.
On the wedding day, Diana had just finished dressing when she heard voices outside the suite.
“She was with Barrett for three years.”
Another voice answered.
“And then she married Edward in one afternoon.”
“Sounds like she kept Moretti as insurance.”
Diana opened the door.
Two businessmen she recognized stood in the corridor.
Neither looked embarrassed.
One smiled.
“No offense, Diana.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t finish the sentence.”
The man raised both hands.
“We’re just saying Edward deserves someone who didn’t spend three years chasing another man.”
Footsteps approached.
Edward appeared at the end of the corridor.
His expression changed immediately.
“Julian.”
The businessman stiffened.
Edward stopped beside Diana.
“Who invited you?”
“Your office.”
“Not anymore.”
“Edward.”
He took the invitation from Julian’s hand and handed it to security.
“Escort them out.”
Julian flushed.
“You’re throwing me out because I mentioned something everybody already knows?”
Edward stepped between him and Diana.
“No.”
His voice remained dangerously quiet.
“I’m throwing you out because you used my wedding as an excuse to humiliate my wife.”
Julian scoffed.
“She rejected you three years ago.”
“Yes.”
Edward didn’t hesitate.
“I agreed to marry Diana three years ago because I respected her before I loved her.”
Diana stared at him.
Edward continued.
“When she chose somebody else, I stepped aside.”
Julian looked uncomfortable.
“So don’t stand here pretending she used me as a backup.”
Edward’s gaze hardened.
“I waited until she chose me freely.”
Security removed both men.
When the hallway became quiet, Diana asked, “Does it bother you?”
Edward looked at her.
“What?”
“My past with Lucas.”
He considered the question.
“Yes.”
Her stomach dropped slightly.
Edward reached up and straightened the edge of her veil.
“It bothers me that someone taught you devotion was embarrassing.”
Her eyes burned.
“It bothers me that people saw your loyalty and called you pathetic because the man receiving it was too careless to deserve it.”
He stepped back.
“And sometimes it bothers me that I wasn’t standing beside you sooner.”
Diana looked down.
“Edward…”
“But your past is yours.”
He touched her hand.
“I don’t need you ashamed of it to make me feel secure.”
Someone called Edward from the ceremony room.
He squeezed her fingers.
“I’ll see you at the altar.”
Diana watched him leave.
Ten minutes later, she walked toward the ceremony hall alone.
Near the entrance stood a familiar figure.
Lucas.
Black suit.
No friends.
No smug smile.
He carried a small gift box.
Their eyes met.
Lucas didn’t approach.
For the first time in three years, he seemed to understand he had no right to.
Edward appeared at the opposite end of the hall.
He followed Diana’s gaze.
His expression sharpened slightly.
“Do you want me to have him removed?”
Diana considered it.
Then shook her head.
“No.”
She looked at Lucas once more.
He had been the greatest love of one version of her life.
The woman who believed loving someone meant enduring them.
The woman who mistook patience for obligation.
The woman who thought being chosen was worth more than being respected.
She wasn’t angry at that woman anymore.
She was simply no longer her.
Diana turned away.
“Let’s get married.”
During the ceremony, Edward held out his hand.
The officiant smiled.
“Diana, if you need another moment—”
Edward interrupted gently.
“She can still change her mind.”
A few guests laughed softly.
Diana looked at him.
“You ran almost ten blocks to marry me before a courthouse closed.”
“Eight.”
“What?”
“It was eight.”
Diana smiled.
“Then I’d better make those eight blocks worth it.”
She placed her hand in his.
Edward’s fingers closed around hers.
“Last chance,” he whispered.
Diana looked into the eyes of a man she had once rejected.
A man powerful enough to terrify half the city but careful enough to ask her permission before deciding what flowers went on their dinner table.
“No.”
Edward raised an eyebrow.
“No?”
“No last chance.”
She smiled.
“I already chose.”
He slid the ring onto her finger.
“Then don’t let go.”
“I won’t.”
After the ceremony, Diana glanced toward the back of the room.
Lucas was gone.
On the guest table sat the gift box he had carried.
There was no card.
No name.
Inside was the antique pearl bracelet Diana had once left at his apartment and assumed she had lost.
Nothing else.
Diana closed the box.
She felt no triumph.
No revenge.
Only peace.
Months later, people would still tell the courthouse story.
How Lucas Barrett canceled his wedding appointment as a prank.
How Diana Whitmore called Edward Moretti with minutes to spare.
How the most feared man in Chicago supposedly ran through downtown traffic to marry the woman who had rejected him three years earlier.
People preferred that version because it sounded dramatic.
Romantic.
Impossible.
But Diana knew the real story wasn’t about one man losing her and another man winning her.
It was about the exact moment she stopped begging people to value what she gave freely.
Lucas’s mistake had not been canceling a courthouse appointment.
His mistake had been believing Diana’s love meant she had nowhere else to go.
Edward’s greatest act had not been reaching the courthouse before closing.
It was standing beside her afterward without ever demanding that she prove she deserved his arrival.
And Diana’s greatest victory was not marrying a more powerful man.
It was realizing she had never needed a powerful man to rescue her at all.
She had only needed enough courage to stop walking back toward the people who kept hurting her.
One evening the following spring, Diana found Edward in their kitchen attempting her mother’s apple pie.
Flour covered half the counter.
The crust had somehow collapsed in the center.
Edward stared at it with the grim concentration of a man negotiating a hostile corporate takeover.
Diana leaned against the doorway.
“That looks terrible.”
Edward looked up.
“I’m aware.”
“My mother gave you the recipe.”
“Your mother’s instructions include phrases like ‘you’ll know when it feels right.’ That is not a measurable quantity.”
Diana laughed.
Edward pointed at the pie.
“I have made six.”
“All terrible?”
“Catastrophic.”
She walked over and dipped a finger into the filling.
He caught her wrist.
“That’s hot.”
“I know.”
“You’ll burn yourself.”
She looked at his hand around hers.
Then at him.
A year earlier, someone else knowing that she was careless around hot pans had been offered as evidence of love.
Now Diana understood.
Knowing someone was not love.
Protecting their weaknesses wasn’t love either.
Love was what happened after knowledge.
What you chose to do with the information another person trusted you to hold.
She kissed Edward’s cheek.
He looked suspicious.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re laughing at my pie.”
“A little.”
He sighed.
“Your mother said marriage requires patience.”
“She meant with people.”
“She should have specified.”
Diana rested her head against his shoulder.
Edward looked down.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
She smiled.
“Really.”
Outside, rain began tapping softly against the windows.
Once, Diana had waited in weather like that for a man who knew she would always be there.
Now she stood inside a warm kitchen beside a man who never assumed she had to stay.
Edward wrapped an arm around her.
“So,” he said, “do we throw out pie number six?”
Diana looked at the crooked crust.
“No.”
“It’s objectively awful.”
“My husband made it.”
“That doesn’t improve the flavor.”
She picked up two forks.
“Maybe not.”
She handed him one.
“But nothing made with that much care should be wasted just because it isn’t perfect.”
Edward recognized the words.
His expression softened.
Together, they ate the ugliest apple pie Diana had ever seen.
And when they laughed, neither of them was the joke.
THE END.
