Chapter 9 - THE SECOND PROPOSAL
Carrie’s divorce became final on a Tuesday.
There was no courtroom drama.
No shouting.
No last-minute objection.
She signed.
Dominic signed.
Nine years of marriage ended beneath fluorescent lights in Amelia Grant’s office.
Carrie expected devastation.
Instead, she felt peace.
Dominic waited outside.
He had not needed to come.
He came anyway.
When Carrie emerged, they looked at each other.
“So,” Dominic said.
“So.”
“You’re officially free of me.”
Carrie smiled faintly.
“Legally.”
He laughed softly.
Then his expression became serious.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I’ll probably always be sorry.”
“Don’t spend your life apologizing.”
Dominic looked surprised.
Carrie continued.
“Spend it being better.”
He nodded.
“I can do that.”
Carrie kissed his cheek.
Then walked away.
Dominic did not follow.
That was why she stopped.
She turned.
He remained where she had left him.
For once, he was letting her choose the distance.
Carrie walked back.
Dominic looked confused.
She kissed him.
On the mouth.
Softly.
Briefly.
Then stepped away.
His expression was almost comical.
“What was that?”
Carrie smiled.
“A first date invitation.”
Dominic blinked.
“We’ve been married.”
“Not anymore.”
“So I have to date you?”
“Yes.”
A slow smile spread across his face.
“Can I pick you up Friday?”
“Seven.”
“Seven.”
“And Dominic?”
“Yes?”
“If there’s a silver Mercedes outside my house, I’m canceling.”
He laughed so loudly people inside Amelia’s office turned to look.
Their second first date was disastrous.
Dominic booked an expensive Manhattan restaurant.
Carrie hated it.
Too many photographers.
Too formal.
Too much history.
They left before appetizers.
They bought hot dogs from a street cart.
Dominic got mustard on his coat.
Carrie laughed until she cried.
They walked through Central Park.
No bodyguards.
No board meetings.
No expectations.
At a bench, Dominic said:
“I loved you badly.”
Carrie looked at him.
“I think that’s the hardest thing to accept.”
“What?”
“That you did love me.”
He nodded.
“Because if you didn’t, everything would be simpler.”
“Yes.”
Carrie looked toward the trees.
“Love isn’t enough.”
“I know.”
“Respect matters.”
“Yes.”
“Honesty.”
“Yes.”
“Choosing someone when choosing them is inconvenient.”
Dominic swallowed.
“Yes.”
Carrie looked at him.
“That’s the one you failed.”
“I know.”
She took his hand.
“And that’s the one I’m watching.”
They dated for eleven months.
Slowly.
Dominic never moved into Carrie’s house.
He never asked.
He attended therapy.
They eventually attended counseling together.
They argued.
They learned.
Carrie discovered forgiveness was not forgetting.
It was remembering without allowing the memory to control every future decision.
On Grace’s second birthday, Dominic arrived carrying a ridiculous stuffed elephant almost as tall as he was.
Carrie stared.
“No.”
“What?”
“That thing is not living here.”
Grace screamed happily.
“ELEPHANT!”
Dominic smiled.
“Grace disagrees.”
“You did this intentionally.”
“Possibly.”
Walter walked past.
“I like it.”
Carrie pointed at him.
“You’re fired.”
“You’ve fired me fourteen times.”
“Fifteen.”
Maria laughed from the kitchen.
The house filled with people.
Not employees.
Family.
Later, after everyone left, Carrie found Dominic assembling a toy kitchen in the living room.
“You put that backwards.”
He looked at the instructions.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve acquired corporations.”
“And yet the sink is upside down.”
Dominic looked.
The sink was upside down.
Carrie laughed.
He threw the instruction manual at her.
She sat beside him.
For several minutes, they worked together.
Then Dominic became quiet.
“I bought something.”
Carrie narrowed her eyes.
“If it’s another elephant—”
“No.”
He reached into his pocket.
Carrie’s breathing stopped.
Her old wedding ring rested in his palm.
He had kept it.
Dominic did not kneel.
He did not propose.
Instead, he placed it in her hand.
“This belonged to a marriage I broke.”
Carrie stared at the ring.
“I don’t want you to wear it again.”
She looked at him.
“Then why give it back?”
“Because it belongs to you.”
His voice softened.
“And because if I ever ask you again, it should be with a different ring.”
Carrie’s eyes filled.
Dominic smiled.
“Different marriage.”
She whispered, “Different man?”
“I’m trying.”
Carrie touched his face.
“You are.”
They kissed.
No grand music.
No audience.
May you like
Just two people sitting beside an upside-down toy sink.
And somehow that felt more romantic than their first wedding.
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