Chapter 21: Breaux Bridge

Aimée's POV

When I came down at six, Rémy was standing at the window with a glass of water.

Preston was on my front steps.

I put my hand on Rémy's arm, and he looked at me and nodded.

I opened the front door in his shirt.

Preston looked up.

He saw the shirt. He saw my bare ring finger.

I watched it go into him and stay.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to watch. I couldn't make myself leave."

"How long?"

"Since midnight."

"It's thirty-four degrees."

"I know." He stood up stiffly.

"I wanted to see the light go off. I wanted to know what I'd lost."

"That's not a thing to say to me, Preston."

"No."

I leaned in the doorway.

"You'll file," I said. "You won't contest anything. The house stays mine, with your mother's blessing."

"You'll put half of what your father left you in an account for this child, and half in another for Solène's."

"And you won't touch either."

"Yes."

"You'll leave the firm."

He blinked. "Aimée, that's my whole..."

"You'll leave it, and you'll work somewhere that doesn't have a Les Douze, for a salary you'd have laughed at last year."

He was quiet.

"Mawmaw's grave is in Breaux Bridge," I said.

"I never took you, because I was afraid you'd stand there and say something polite."

"I'd like to go."

"I didn't invite you."

"No." His mouth shook. "I'll go anyway. If you'll let me. Alone, first."

I thought it over.

"Go," I said. "Learn what you're standing next to."

He went down the steps to the street without another word.

Rémy came up behind me and put his chin on top of my head.

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