The Surgeon He Never Knew Chapter 12

The Surgeon He Never Knew Chapter 12

Grant’s sentencing came on a December morning.

Thirty-two years. Federal prison. No parole for twenty.

He stood in orange, staring at the judge with hollow eyes. The bluff had failed.

He didn’t look at me. I didn’t need him to.

I drove straight to Damien’s.

Lily opened the door.

“SERA!” She launched at my legs. “Dad’s making pancakes and they’re TERRIBLE.”

“I heard that!” Damien called.

“They’re LUMPY, Dad!”

I picked her up-this fierce little girl with her father’s eyes.

“Let’s fix the pancakes.”

We fixed them. Lily supervised. Damien pretended offense. I laughed more in that kitchen than in six years of

marriage.

After breakfast, Lily retreated to catalog new rocks. (“Mica, Sera. MICA.” “It’s not rare.” “It’s rare to ME.”)

Damien and I stood on the terrace.

“It’s over,” he said. “Grant’s sentencing. Vivienne’s retreat. Harper’s disbarment. Everything’s secure.”

“It’s over,” I agreed.

“So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“For ten years, you’ve been fighting. Hiding. Surviving.” He took my hands. “What do you want, Sera? Not what the world needs. What do YOU want?”

No one had ever asked me that.

I looked through the glass at Lily, carefully labeling rocks, singing to herself.

I looked at Damien-this man who’d shown up without agenda. Who cooked terrible pancakes and let his daughter redecorate with geology specimens. Who’d held my hand through crisis and never once tried to

control me.

“This,” I said. “I want this.”

“Lumpy pancakes and a six-year-old rock enthusiast?”

“You. Her. A life where I don’t have to hide. I want to come home to noise and mess and someone who’s happy

to see me. I want to be just Sera. And I want someone who thinks that’s enough.”

His hands framed my face.

“You were always enough. Always more than enough. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you

know it.”

“Marry me,” he murmured.

“You haven’t properly asked.”

“I’m asking now. Marry me. Move in. Let Lily show you rocks every single day. Let me make terrible pancakes every morning. Let me love you for the rest of our lives.”

“Your pancakes are genuinely terrible.”

“I’ll take lessons.”

I laughed. Cried. Both at once.

“Yes.”

His arms crushed me against him. Through the glass, Lily looked up, saw us, pumped her fist.

“YES!” she screamed. “I KNEW IT! I TOLD GRANDMA!”

Damien groaned. “She’s been plotting this for weeks.”

“Smart girl.”

“Terrifyingly smart. Gets it from-” He looked at me. “From the woman who’s about to be her mother.”

My heart stopped. Restarted. Fuller.

“I’d be honored,” I whispered.

Lily burst onto the terrace, wedging between us.

“Does this mean you’re staying forever?”

I knelt. “Forever.”

She nodded. “Good. I found a geode and I need someone who appreciates it.”

“I appreciate geodes deeply.”

“I know. That’s why I picked you.”

Damien met my eyes over his daughter’s head. Bright with tears he’d never admit to.

This. This messy, noisy, rock-obsessed love.

Worth everything.