Triplets Under the Tree

And Antonio had done something unbelievably considerate in removing the remnants of his first marriage. He’d told her last night that he wanted to move on. She couldn’t blame him for choices he’d made either before the crash or after.

He deserved a fresh start after the horrors he’d endured. If he wanted new bedroom furniture because the old pieces had belonged to his first wife, she’d help him redecorate once a week until he was happy. And keep her mouth shut about how hard it was on her to constantly recall that she was living her sister’s life by default.

A clerk approached them the moment they stepped into the hushed store. Expensive plank flooring and discreet lighting lent to the moneyed atmosphere, and the high-end pieces on display even smelled expensive. It would be a Christmas miracle if Antonio walked out of here with a full bedroom set for less than fifty thousand dollars.

“What are you looking for today?” the salesclerk asked politely. “A new sofa to accommodate extra party guests, perhaps?”

“We’re in need of new bedroom furniture,” Antonio said as Caitlyn did a double take.

What was this “we” stuff?

“Absolutely, sir.” The clerk eyed them both. “Can you give me an idea what style you might be looking for? Art deco, maybe? American heritage or contemporary?”

“Caitlyn, did you have a particular style in mind?” Antonio asked, and put a palm to the small of her back as if she had every right to be included in the decision. As if they were a couple shopping for furniture together.

“I, um...don’t know what you’d like,” she admitted, which seemed ridiculous to say when she’d not only studied him surreptitiously for years, she’d also just had sex with him. Shouldn’t she know what he liked?

“I’d like something that puts a smile on your face.” The look he gave her curled her toes and rendered her speechless. To the clerk, he nodded and said, “Show her everything and make sure she’s given the opportunity to pick colors and such. I assume you do custom orders.”

Dollar signs sprang into the clerk’s eyes. “Of course. Down to the throw pillows. Please call me Judy. And you are?”

“This is Ms. Hopewell,” Antonio said smoothly. “And she’s the star of this show. She doesn’t walk out of here without an entire bedroom set. When she’s finished picking what she wants, you let me know and I’ll pay for it.”

“Excuse us a moment.” Caitlyn pulled Antonio to the side. “What are you doing?” she whispered hotly. “I can’t pick out your bedroom furniture. It’s too...”

Intimate. Fast. Expensive.

“I want you to,” he insisted. “After all, you’re going to be using it.”

She shut her eyes for a moment as she envisioned exactly what he meant by that. “But it’s not going to be mine. I have a bedroom.”

“Not anymore.” Antonio’s eyebrows drew together as her eyes widened. “I’m messing this up, aren’t I? I should have talked to you about this at home. I want you to move into my bedroom. Permanently.”

Warmth spread through her abdomen. The staff would know instantly that they were together, so maybe he didn’t intend for their relationship to be a secret.

But what was their relationship? She knew he was the committed sort—it wasn’t a surprise that he wanted something permanent. But it would be nice to have specifics. She’d never done this before. Was this his subtle way of asking her to be his girlfriend? Or was this the precursor to a marriage proposal?

Yes. Yes. Yes. No matter what he was asking, the answer was yes.

This definitely wasn’t the time nor the place to hash this out, but she couldn’t be upset. He wanted her to be a part of his life. Permanently. There was no possible way to misinterpret that. Who cared what label they slapped on it? Her heart flipped over and back again, unable to find the right spot in her chest now that everything she’d ever dreamed for herself had fallen in her lap.

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Help me make it a place we can be together without shadows of the past.”

Her unsettled heart climbed into her throat as the sentiment crashed through her happiness. If only new furniture could actually achieve that.

She could never be rid of Vanessa’s shadow. She was living her sister’s life, the one Vanessa couldn’t live because she’d died. A life Caitlyn never should have had, despite desperately wanting it. The enormous burden of guilt settled over her anew.