Chapter 10 - Table Four, One Year Later
One year after Chloe’s disastrous rehearsal dinner, Sadi Miller walked into the same country club wearing red.
Not emerald.
Not gray.
Red.
A deep, unapologetic red dress that hugged every curve she had spent half her life trying to hide.
Her hair was pinned loosely.
Gold earrings brushed her neck.
And when she passed the mirror near the entrance, she did not stop to evaluate whether she looked smaller.
She looked like herself.
That was enough.
Roman stood beside her in a black suit.
No tie.
No visible tattoos except at his wrist.
No bodyguards inside.
He had complained.
Sadi had won.
Mostly.
“There are two security officers outside,” he confessed.
She looked at him.
“Roman.”
“They are attending dinner.”
“They are sitting in a car.”
“The car has food.”
“That is not attending dinner.”
“Semantics.”
She laughed.
Tonight was Chloe and Ethan’s first anniversary dinner.
A smaller gathering.
Thirty people.
No Morettis.
No fraudulent loans.
No federal agents hiding behind floral arrangements.
Sadi considered that progress.
At the entrance, a young hostess smiled.
“Ms. Miller?”
“Yes.”
“Your family is at table four.”
Sadi stopped.
Roman looked at her.
Slowly, she smiled.
“Table four.”
“Apparently.”
They entered.
Linda stood first.
A year earlier, her mother had reacted to Roman like he was an approaching hurricane.
Tonight she hugged Sadi.
Then looked at Roman.
“You’re late.”
Roman glanced at his watch.
“We are three minutes early.”
Linda nodded.
“I wanted to see what that felt like.”
Roman stared.
Sadi burst out laughing.
Her mother had improved.
So had Roman.
He kissed Linda’s cheek.
“You’ve become dangerous.”
“I’ve been spending time with my older daughter.”
Chloe appeared.
She was glowing.
Not wedding-photo glowing.
Real glowing.
Ethan followed.
He looked humbled.
Happier too.
Losing his company had not destroyed him.
It had forced him to stop pretending success and character were the same thing.
He now worked for a smaller development firm.
Chloe had returned to nursing.
They still attended counseling twice a month.
Nobody in the family called that embarrassing anymore.
Amanda was there too.
Not with Derek.
With a woman named Lauren she had met six months earlier.
Sadi hugged her.
“You look happy.”
“I ate bread before dinner.”
“Scandalous.”
“Derek would faint.”
Sadi grinned.
Derek had moved to Seattle after the trial.
They had spoken once since.
He apologized.
Sadi accepted the apology.
She did not offer friendship.
Some people belonged in the chapter that taught you something, not the chapter you were currently living.
Dinner began.
Roman sat beside Sadi.
Exactly where he had sat a year earlier.
But everything felt different.
Nobody whispered about why Sadi was there.
Nobody stared at her plate.
Nobody asked whether she had lost weight.
Nobody congratulated Roman for “seeing past” anything, because Sadi had made it very clear that anyone who tried would be leaving through the nearest decorative hedge.
Halfway through dinner, Chloe tapped her glass.
Sadi groaned.
“No speeches.”
“Too late.”
Chloe stood.
“One year ago, this dinner almost destroyed my wedding.”
Ethan muttered, “Good opening.”
People laughed.
Chloe continued.
“A lot happened.”
She looked at Sadi.
“My sister discovered a financial conspiracy because she recognized fake paint.”
“Pigment,” Sadi corrected.
“Whatever.”
More laughter.
“She also saved our family home from being stolen.”
“We sold it.”
“Details.”
Chloe smiled.
“But that’s not what I’m celebrating.”
She looked directly at her sister.
“For years, Sadi was the person everyone in our family expected to absorb the uncomfortable stuff.”
Sadi’s smile faded.
“She was supposed to laugh at jokes that hurt her.”
Linda looked down.
“Accept the bad table.”
Sadi’s throat tightened.
“Forgive quickly.”
Chloe lifted her glass.
“And somehow remain grateful.”
Roman’s hand rested beside Sadi’s on the table.
Not touching.
Waiting.
Sadi turned her palm upward.
He took it.
Chloe continued.
“Last year, she stopped doing that.”
Her voice softened.
“And the rest of us had to become better or lose the privilege of being close to her.”
Linda wiped her eyes.
Sadi did too.
Chloe raised her glass.
“To Sadi.”
Everyone joined.
Roman did not say anything.
He did not need to.
After dinner, Sadi walked outside onto the terrace.
Snow fell lightly over the golf course.
Roman followed.
“You disappeared.”
“I moved twenty feet.”
“For you that counts.”
She smiled.
He stood beside her.
For a minute neither spoke.
Then Roman said, “Do you remember the kitchen?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You were eating a pastry.”
“You remember that?”
“Yes.”
“I was crying.”
“I remember that too.”
“I said I needed a boyfriend.”
Roman nodded.
“You did.”
“And you somehow interpreted that as a job application.”
“It was a reasonable inference.”
“No human being would agree with you.”
“You agreed.”
“I was emotionally compromised.”
“That sounds like something my attorney says.”
Sadi laughed.
Roman reached into his jacket.
She narrowed her eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing alarming.”
“That sentence is inherently alarming.”
He removed a small velvet box.
Sadi stopped breathing.
Roman immediately said, “Before you panic, this is not a command.”
She looked at him.
“Strong opening.”
“I practiced.”
“Clearly.”
Roman held the box but did not kneel.
Sadi noticed.
He knew her.
Public grand gestures made her feel trapped.
So he remained standing beside her.
Equal height was impossible because Roman was enormous, but the symbolism worked.
“I spent most of my life thinking love was another kind of ownership.”
Sadi’s eyes filled.
“I thought protecting people meant deciding for them.”
Snow landed in his dark hair.
“I thought power meant never having to ask.”
He opened the box.
A simple gold ring.
Elegant.
Warm.
No ridiculous diamond visible from space.
Sadi smiled through tears.
Roman continued.
“You taught me that asking is the part that matters.”
His voice changed.
Not mafia boss.
Not businessman.
Just Roman.
“Sadi Miller, I love the woman you are when no one is looking.”
Her chin trembled.
“I love the woman who kept cleaning while federal agents tore apart my walls.”
She laughed.
“I love the woman who understands paintings I would have walked past.”
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“I love that you take up space.”
That almost broke her.
Roman looked into her eyes.
“And I love that you finally stopped apologizing for it.”
He held out the ring.
“So I’m asking.”
A pause.
“Would you like to build a life with me?”
Sadi sniffed.
“That is not technically a proposal.”
Roman frowned.
“I was told not to be controlling.”
“You overcorrected.”
He sighed.
“Sadi.”
She laughed.
Then he finally asked.
“Will you marry me?”
She looked through the glass doors.
At Chloe.
At her mother.
At a life that had once convinced her she should be grateful for scraps of approval.
Then she looked back at Roman.
A man who had first entered her story because both of them wanted something.
An alibi.
A shield.
A performance.
A transaction.
But somewhere between table four, her father’s hidden drawings, fake paintings, federal interviews, arguments, and coffee-shop apologies, the performance had become the one thing neither could fake.
Choice.
“Yes.”
Roman closed his eyes.
Sadi laughed.
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
“That seems concerning.”
“I was prepared for negotiation.”
“Of course you were.”
He slid the ring onto her finger.
Then stopped.
“Is it comfortable?”
Sadi looked at him.
“What?”
“The size.”
Her laughter became helpless.
“You checked every criminal record in Chicago but didn’t know my ring size?”
“I no longer perform unauthorized background investigations.”
Sadi kissed him.
Roman forgot about the ring.
Forgot about the snow.
Forgot about everyone watching through the windows.
When they finally separated, Sadi rested her forehead against his.
“One condition.”
His eyes narrowed.
“There is always a condition.”
“At the wedding, my mother does not control the seating chart.”
Roman glanced through the glass at Linda.
“Agreed.”
“And no table twelve.”
“Agreed.”
“No mafia business.”
“Easy.”
“No fake boyfriend.”
Roman’s mouth curved.
“That position has been permanently eliminated.”
Sadi smiled.
A year earlier, she had stood in a kitchen believing the most humiliating thing in the world was arriving alone.
She knew better now.
Being alone had never been the problem.
Believing she needed another person to prove she deserved a seat at the table had been.
Roman had not rescued her from being the plus-size maid.
Sadi had never needed rescuing from her body, her job, or herself.
She had needed room to remember that humiliation only worked when she accepted someone else’s definition of her.
Now she had a career she loved.
A sister who respected her.
A mother learning to listen.
A man beside her who had learned that love was not another word for control.
And a seat at table four.
Not because Roman Rossi had demanded it.
Because Sadi Miller finally understood she had never belonged near the kitchen unless she chose to be there.
Roman looked down at her.
“What?”
She smiled.
“I was thinking about the first thing you ever said to me that night.”
“What time is the event?”
“Yes.”
Roman nodded thoughtfully.
“That was romantic.”
“It absolutely was not.”
“I came to the wedding.”
“For an alibi.”
“I stayed for you.”
Sadi studied him.
Then smiled.
“That part was pretty good.”
Inside, Chloe opened the terrace doors.
“Are you two coming back or starting another criminal conspiracy?”
Sadi lifted her left hand.
Chloe screamed.
Linda screamed louder.
Roman winced.
Sadi laughed.
Then she took his hand and walked back toward the family waiting at table four.
This time, nobody had moved her name there.
May you like
She had chosen the seat herself.
And Roman followed.
