Chapter 10 - A Perfect Ten
The evening of Clara’s graduation was a perfect, clear summer night. After a long, emotional ceremony where Alistair and Seraphina had cheered louder than anyone else in the auditorium, the family returned to the Brooklyn brownstone for a private celebration.
The backyard was illuminated by strings of warm fairy lights woven through the branches of an old oak tree. A long wooden table was set with simple white ceramic plates—durable, beautiful, and completely unpretentious.
Alistair stood by the grill, successfully cooking burgers, while Seraphina sat on the grass, happily brushing the golden retriever’s fur.
Clara walked out onto the wooden deck, holding two glasses of lemonade. She had changed out of her graduation gown into a simple, elegant white sundress. She stood by the railing, looking up at the Manhattan skyline gleaming across the river. The glass towers looked beautiful from here, but she was glad she was no longer looking down from the top of them. She was grounded. She was home.
Alistair walked up behind her, setting down his cooking utensils. He wrapped his large, warm arms around her, pulling her back against his chest, his chin resting gently on the top of her head.
"What are you thinking about?" he whispered into her hair.
"Just thinking about how much can change in a year," Clara said softly, turning around in his arms to face him. She reached up, her fingers tracing the soft lines of his face. "A year ago, I was a broke waitress who could barely afford her rent, terrified of the future. And tonight... tonight I have everything I ever dreamed of."
Alistair looked down at her, his eyes dark with an emotion so intense it took her breath away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, navy velvet box. He didn't drop to one knee; he simply held it between them, his hand steady, his eyes locked onto hers with absolute, eternal certainty.
"I don't want to live another day without you being officially part of this family, Clara," Alistair said, his voice thick with a profound, beautiful devotion. "Isabella gave me a beautiful past, and I will always love her memory. But you... you gave me a future. You taught me how to live again. Will you marry me, Clara?"
Clara looked at the box, which opened to reveal a stunning, brilliant-cut diamond ring set in a simple platinum band. It wasn't flashy or ostentatious; it was classic, strong, and completely beautiful—just like the love they had built.
Before she could speak, Seraphina walked up the deck steps, the puppy trotting happily behind her. She looked at the ring, then up at Clara, a soft, beautiful tear shining in her eye.
"Please say yes, Clara," Seraphina said, her voice small but filled with a profound, emotional clarity. "I already told the debate team you're my mom. I don't want to have to renegotiate the contract."
Clara let out a beautiful, tearful laugh, reaching out to pull Seraphina into her side, while her other hand reached for Alistair’s face.
"Yes, Alistair," Clara whispered, her tears flowing freely now as she leaned up to kiss him. "A thousand times, yes."
Alistair slid the ring onto her finger, sealing a promise that had begun in a ruined restaurant floor and ended in the warm grass of a real home. He pulled both of his girls into a tight, fierce embrace under the summer stars.
Seraphina looked down at the simple white ceramic plates on the table, then up at the beautiful, unified family she was finally a part of.
"So," the billionaire's daughter said with a brilliant, triumphant smile. "The ring. The family. The house. What’s the final score, Clara?"
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Clara looked at the man she loved, the daughter she had saved, and the beautiful, honest life stretching out before them into the night.
"It's a ten, Seraphina," Clara whispered, her heart completely whole. "A perfect ten out of ten."
