Chapter 10 - The Vow

The hospital waiting room felt like a purgatory of white walls and ticking clocks.
It took four agonizing hours before the surgeon finally walked through the double doors.
He pulled off his scrub cap and smiled.
"The bullet missed his major artery by a millimeter," the doctor announced. "He’s going to be fine."
Hannah collapsed into a nearby chair, burying her face in her hands and weeping with absolute relief.
Richard, sitting beside her, placed a comforting, grandfatherly hand on Noah’s head.
Three weeks later, the nightmare seemed like a distant memory.
Marcus was facing decades in federal prison, and Victoria had taken a plea deal to testify against him.
Hannah stood in the sunlit garden of the Blackwood estate.
She watched Ethan, his arm still in a sling, teaching Noah how to throw a baseball.
Ethan laughed, a bright, genuine sound that she hadn't heard in seven years.
He walked over to her, his gray eyes full of an overwhelming warmth.
"He's got quite an arm," Ethan said, kissing her softly on the forehead.
"He gets it from his father," Hannah smiled.
Ethan reached into his pocket with his good hand.
He didn't kneel, because his injuries wouldn't let him, but he opened a small velvet box.
Inside was a simple, elegant diamond ring.
"No more wasted time," Ethan said softly. "Marry me, Hannah. Let me spend the rest of my life making up for the time we lost."
Hannah didn't even have to think about it.
"Yes," she whispered, pulling him into a gentle embrace.
From the grass, Noah cheered loudly and yelled, "Way to go, Dad!"
It was the first time he had used the word, and it made Ethan's heart soar.
Later that evening, Hannah went into Richard's old study to look for some legal documents for the wedding.
She opened the bottom drawer of his heavy oak desk and found a hidden file folder with her maiden name printed on the tab.
May you like
Curious, she opened it and found a yellowed newspaper clipping about her own parents' fatal car crash from twenty years ago.
Written on the back of the photo, in Richard Blackwood’s distinct handwriting, were the words: "It was the only way to get her."