by Brook Wilder
Della turned and stepped out into the hallway, making her way into their bedroom. Martha lay on their bed, her legs swinging in the air. She was waiting for her mom.
“Hey, baby!” Della said, picking Martha up and pressing her lips to her forehead. She cradled her in her arms for a while, and then she put her down, walking to her closet and swinging it open. “Woah,” she whispered under her breath. It had been a long time since she’s worn any of her party dresses. Lately, she’d only been taking up the role of the mom, and a part of her wanted to switch it up, even if it were only for one night. She reached into her closet and pulled out the first thing she could get her hands on. “I’m definitely not wearing that,” she mumbled under her breath, tossing the black skin-tight leather dress onto the bed. She had gained a little bit of weight since she’s given birth to Martha, but she didn’t mind it. Prescott knew how to make her feel like the beautiful woman she was. And Della looked great in anything, really. Her natural curves were accentuated by anything she put on, and Prescott made sure that she knew that.
“Okay, Della, think think,” she said to herself, reaching into her closet again. She cocked her head to the side, feeling a rough fabric brush up on her fingers. She pulled it out, only to find a dress Prescott had bought her while she was pregnant.
This ought to fit me, she thought to herself, dropping her sweatpants and taking off her shirt.
She slipped into the golden chiffon dress, twirling around in front of the mirror and checking herself out. The truth was, she looked pretty great, and all she wanted was for Prescott to see her in it now that her belly wasn’t bulging out underneath it.
“Where are you?” she heard Prescott call from the other room.
“Don’t come in yet!” she said, quickly taking the dress off. She wanted it to be a surprise.
“Why?” Prescott said, popping his head in through the door. Della automatically wrapped her arms around her body. She reached into her closet, pulled out a house robe and then put it on.
Prescott stepped closer to her, eyeing her up and down.
“Since when are you shy of me?” he asked, his head cocked to the side. Della’s eyes dropped to the floor, and he could tell it was because she didn’t want him seeing her stretch marks. “Don’t be like that,” he said, his lips coming to a smile. “You’re beautiful, do you hear me?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist. Della looked into his eyes, and it was only when Prescott nodded towards the door did she roll her eyes and follow him into the adjacent room. They closed the door behind them, and then Prescott slowly untangled the knot of her robe. “You think that just because you put on a couple of pounds then you’re not beautiful anymore?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
Della shook her head, her eyes roaming his face and neck as he spread his fingers out over her backside and squeezed.
“Your curves are the sexiest thing about you,” he whispered, pulling her close. Della was pressed up against him, and she could immediately feel his hardness against her thigh. She leaned in and kissed him, and then they made out passionately, Prescott’s hands roaming all over her body. “You know, giving birth has probably made you ten times more attractive in my eyes,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers.
“And why is that?” she smirked.
“Everything, from your womanly curves to your natural glow, just, everything,” he whispered. “Making love to you pregnant had been one of the most gratifying experiences in my life,” he continued.
Della felt herself blush. She loved the way Prescott talked about her, she loved the way he talked to her. She had never felt so appreciated by a man. He gave her confidence, and that was all she needed right now.
“I love you so much,” she said, her lashes fluttering in front of her eyes. Suddenly, Prescott bent down, wrapped his arms around her thighs and then lifted her up. Della let out a playful squeal as he threw her over his shoulder and then collapsed with her onto the bed. He landed on top of her, immediately starting to kiss her neck. Della let out a sigh as his lips roamed her neck and her chest, and he sucked at the skin as Della moaned quietly. “I don’t want to wake up the baby,” she whispered, trying to stay quiet.
“We’re not going to, don’t worry,” Prescott murmured, his eyes locked on hers. Della wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, and then they got right to it. Nothing felt more gratifying, more fulfilling, than making love to each other. Even after all this time, they still had that chemistry, that spark...something that wasn’t going away anytime soon. They had promised to be there for each other for as long as they lived, and neither of them was backing out of that promise anytime soon. Della pulled him even closer; with every move, every thrust, every moan of pleasure came an everlasting love. When they were together, it felt as if time had stopped, and everything fell properly into place. Prescott rolled from on top of her, wiping the sweat off his forehead and chest.
“It’s as perfect as it ever was with you,” he said, turning to look at her.
Della smiled at him, placing a hand on his cheek. She knew he was right. She knew they were better than ever before. All her worries, all her doubts, were dwindling away, like she never had them in the first place.
“You want me to call Kate now and tell her to come over?” she asked. “Maybe have ourselves a long day together?”
“That sounds perfect,” Prescott said, smiling. “We can go to lunch and dinner,” he continued. “And I’m paying.”
Della laughed. She got up, rolling her eyes at Prescott as she walked up to her closet. “I’m going to need you to get out of here,” she smirked, eyeing Prescott as he lay naked under the sheets. “Go sit with Martha while I change, won’t you?”
“Alright,” Prescott said teasingly. He got up, put his clothes back on and then walked out of the room, winking at Della as he closed the door behind him. “I’m waiting to be pleasantly surprised!”
Della slipped into her dress and then did her makeup. She thought about curling her hair, but then decided against it. She wanted to be natural that day, the way Prescott liked her to be.
“I’m ready,” she said, stepping out of their room.
“I’m down here,” Prescott called from downstairs. Della made her way down the corridor and then stood at the top of the stairs, staring at Prescott, who was now in a suit.
“Oh my God,” Della said, her lips coming to a smile.
“Gotta be classy for you, don’t I?” he said, raising an eyebrow at her. “You look stunning.” Prescott was eyeing Della up and down, and then he reached his hand out to her as she strutted down the stairs in her high heels. The dress shimmered under the light of the chandelier, and the truth was, Prescott couldn’t keep his eyes off her. At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Della looked through the peephole before opening up for Kate. She had gotten into the habit of checking who was at the door before opening up, something that Prescott had urged her to do over and over again.
“Oh, you look gorgeous, both of you!” Kate said, whistling. “You about to head out?”
Della nodded, wrapping her arms around her best friend. “You have no idea how much we appreciate this,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it, you guys go and have fun,” Kate said, winking at Prescott, who flashed her a coy smile.
“What, are you in on the surprise, too?” Della asked mockingly.
“And you’re throwing her surprises!” Kate said, throwing her arms up in the air. “That’s it, I hereby declare you the best boyfriend in the world.”
Prescott chuckled. He took Della’s hand and led the way outside, flashing Kate a smirk before they got on his bike and drove off. Della took in the fresh night air. She felt free with Prescott, like the two of them were embarking on a new journey together, a new chapter of their lives. She felt something in her stomach, like butterflies, and for some reason she felt good about tonight. The city lights were whizzing past them, and still she had no idea where Prescott was taking her.
/> “Care to tell me where we’re going?” she asked.
“Nowhere special,” Prescott chuckled.
Della let out a giggle, holding onto Prescott and looking around her. Were they heading downtown? She felt her heart beat in anticipation. She hadn’t been surprised in a long time. Not in a good way, that is. She had had just enough time to get over what happened, and now, she just wanted to let loose and relax. This was her time, and she wanted to be her normal self again: fun, outgoing, wild. She had always been committed to her studies, and now, she had a family to be committed to as well. Everything was changing; two years ago, she would’ve never thought she would be in the place she was now. She was a mom. Even thinking about it made her feel strange, but it was a good kind of strange. The very thought of being away from Martha made her a little nervous. She knew she was in good hands, but a part of her felt like she had developed such a deep maternal instinct that it was almost impossible not to worry. But tonight was her night, and no one could take that away from her.
“I know for a fact we’re heading downtown now,” she said, peering over Prescott’s shoulder.
“I’m not going to answer that,” he said, his lips coming to a smile. “Alright, fine, I’m taking you to the restaurant where we had our first date,” he chuckled.
Della felt a warmth radiate through her. She knew Prescott would come up with something sweet, something heart-warming.
“The Italian place?” she asked, her arms tightening around Prescott’s waist.
“Oh, act like you don’t remember,” he said teasingly. Prescott leaned into his bike and, soon enough, they were there. He pulled over, got off his bike and helped Della off. She looked him up and down, thinking about how hot he looked in that suit. She thought about it a little more and she found herself biting her lips to the very notion of him riding his bike in a black tux.
“I’m pretty excited,” she said, holding his hand and squeezing it. The two of them stepped in through the entrance and Prescott walked up to the man at the check in and murmured his last name. The man pointed to a round table out on the terrace, and Della found herself blushing as Prescott took her by the hand and led the way to their table. He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down, staring at him as he shifted in his seat and grabbed a menu.
“We should probably get drunk tonight, shouldn’t we?” he asked, flipping through the leather embossed menu.
“I spent nine months not having a single drink,” Della said, rolling her eyes. “I think I can go for one now.”
Prescott flashed her a smirk.
“Going to order your favorite,” he said, motioning for the waiter to come over. “Can I have a Bloody Mary?” he asked.
Della giggled. Prescott knew her more than anyone, and the truth was, he paid attention. He didn’t just find out what her favorite alcoholic drink was out of nowhere. He listened to her, and he made sure that nothing she said ever went unheard. She thought about how sweet it was for him to remember their first date together, and where they went. “You know me so well,” she said, reaching her hand out across the table. “I’m so happy we’re together, Prescott.”
“I’m happy to have you by my side supporting me, no matter what,” he said, squeezing her hand. Della could feel him stroking her ring finger with his, and he smiled at her, his eyes dropping to the floor when their eyes met. “You know...I’ve been thinking,” he breathed.
“About what?” Della asked, leaning in across the table.
“I think I’m gonna stay away from the club for a while,” Prescott said, letting go of Della’s hand and shifting in his seat.
Della didn’t say anything. She knew how much the club meant to Prescott. It was all he knew, everything he had ever worked for. And now he was thinking of walking away. She almost slapped herself for thinking like that. That club was the reason why Della got kidnapped in the first place. What was she going to do? Talk Prescott out of turning over a new leaf? She wasn’t having it. If she wanted to be safe, if she wanted her family to be safe, then she had to help Prescott let go of his past.
“I don’t blame you,” she said finally. “You have a family now, Prescott, and I don’t think you would ever compromise that,” she continued.
Prescott knew she was right. He didn’t think she would react any differently. But a part of him couldn’t help but feel conflicted. On the one hand, the club was really all he knew; it was all he grew up with and all his father ever taught him. A part of him didn’t want to disappoint him. What did he do all of this for? Had he just avenged his father over nothing? He claimed his rights.
He took what was his.
But he couldn’t forget about Della. He couldn’t forget about what happened to her, or to their baby. It was just one of those things that he wanted to forget about completely; to discard. He wanted to walk away and not have to turn around.
“I know, you’re right,” he said finally. “I would never put your lives at risk again...I would rather die than see you in this position again, Della,” he continued, tears gathering in his eyes.
Della looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed. A part of her felt like she was taking Prescott’s lifelong project away, something he had long been fighting for. She thought about his father, and how Prescott would’ve done anything to avenge him. And now she was asking him to let go of that, like it meant nothing. But the truth was, Prescott didn’t kill Al for nothing. He didn’t come all this way to turn around. Della felt like she was taking a part of him away, a part he’d never get back.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she breathed, wiping the tears off his face. She realized Prescott was still badly scarred by what had happened. It had occurred to her that maybe he was left with more scars than she was. He was living with an immense amount of guilt, and even though he had done everything to make up for what happened, Della knew he would never fully get over it. “Take your time to think about this...I know it’s not easy for you,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed.
“I’m not going to let you down again, Della,” Prescott said. “I promise I’ll do my best to keep you and Martha away from this madness.”
Della nodded, smiling weakly. She knew how hurtful it must be for Prescott to let go of his career, the one thing he’s worked so hard for. “I can’t let you do it,” she said finally. “I can’t just sit back and watch you throw away your career like that.”
Prescott looked away. He didn’t know what to say to her. Della shook her head, because she knew his silence confirmed her fears; that Prescott was letting go without wanting to let go.
“Prescott,” Della said again. “Stay in the club, claim what’s yours,” she continued.
“And what about you? What about Martha?” he asked, raising his eyes to her. For a second Della saw a spark in his eyes, that spark that always seemed to show whenever he talked about the club. She knew he wouldn’t get that glimmer back doing any other job, and her heart ached at the very thought of Prescott abandoning the one thing he had poured his heart and soul in for so long.
“Defend us the only way you know how...come on, you’re the most intelligent man I know. I’m sure you can figure something out,” Della said. “We can amp up our security, and from now on you have to think twice before trusting anyone,” she continued. Right now, Della was thinking practically. She was coming up with solutions to their problem. She didn’t want them to just sit there, sulking over what could’ve been, but she wanted answers, and she wanted them now. She wasn’t going to risk her own life again, but she wasn’t going to let Prescott start all over again, either.
Prescott nodded. He still wasn’t sure where she was going with this. He didn’t want to think about it right now, he couldn’t let it ruin the special night he had planned out for her. For now, he had to focus on why he brought her here in the first place.
“You’re amazing,” he said finally. “I don’t think I’ll ever find a woman like you, no matter where I go.” There was silence. “Which is why,” Prescott started again, ge
tting up. The waiter had just arrived with their drinks. “Hey, excuse me,” Prescott said, handing the man his phone. “Could you take a picture of us?” he asked.
The waiter nodded, and then Prescott and Della stood side by side by the fence, posing for the photo.
“Get the entire view, won’t you?” Della asked, smiling. Suddenly, Prescott turned to her reaching into the pocket of his jacket. “Prescott, what are you-”
He was down on one knee.
Della’s hand flew to her mouth as she looked down at Prescott, who took a red velvet box out of his pocket and opened it up to her. In the box was a sparkling white dot. A wedding ring.
“Della, you’re the love of my life, and I may not have planned the right words to say, but all I can tell you is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I can only hope you feel a fraction of the same way.”
Della’s heart skipped a beat. Tears were gathering in her eyes, and she could feel her legs shaking and her knees about to buckle. All those emotions were gushing through her like an electric current, and a part of her couldn’t even begin to absorb what was happening. All she knew was that Prescott was down on one knee, half the restaurant was watching and her mind screamed yes. She wished she could freeze this moment forever, but that’s what Prescott had brought the waiter for. He was snapping pictures of them on Prescott’s phone, and, at that point, Della didn’t even care if black streaks of mascara were running down her cheeks. She was nodding frantically, but no words were coming out. Prescott shifted in his place, squeezing Della’s hand and mouthing the words “Will you marry me?” to her.
