The auditorium is sweltering, even though the air conditioning is working at maximum capacity.

I sit in the front row, angling myself toward one of the portable coolers at the base of the stage. Monday morning, I’m putting in an order for an upgraded system. For sure.

“Are they going to start soon, or is this going to take all day?” Don James’ voice is disgruntled, but only mildly.

“Oh, all day. I made sure they pulled out all the stops.”

He laughs at my joke. “As long as there’ll be food.” 

Juliet’s dad sits next to me in the very front row. President Wilson wanted us to sit up on stage with the rest of the faculty, but Juliet wouldn’t have it. “Not a chance, Wes,” she’d told me again last night while she was getting undressed—ostensibly for bed, but it turned into something heated the moment we slipped under the covers. Almost three years, and she’s as ravenous for me as she ever was. It’s a good sign, if I do say so myself. 

“There’ll be food, Don. Did you think I’d ask you here without reservations?” I teased.

Things are on the upswing for Don, thanks to the diligent work of his personal aide and the staff at Belle Park. There were some wrinkles to be smoothed out at first, when I was getting into the venture, but in the spring Belle Park was named New York’s best rehabilitation facility and retirement community.

I’d like to think it was because of my influence—and I have had more influence than I would normally—but I have to give most of the credit to Shoshanna Evers, the woman I hired to oversee the whole enterprise as my second-in-command. She is ruthless about hiring only the best staff, and it shows.

Juliet’s dad is a prime example.

I don’t know what the hell they thought they were doing at Overbrook, which is supposed to be pretty top-notch. Was. After Juliet was done with them, they had to do some serious reorganizing to stay in business. Last I heard, the place was in a free-fall. It’s very nearly time for me to step in and acquire it. I know Shoshanna can whip it into shape.

But to Juliet’s enormous relief, he’s actually stabilized over the past few years instead of sliding deeper into the depression that got the better of him what seems like forever ago. He’s spending far less time in his room and far more time socializing, and for the past year, his outbursts have been kept to a minimum. So much so that he’s able to be here today, to attend her graduation.

My heart aches with pride.

Juliet moved into the penthouse after the first year of law school was finished. She insisted on maintaining her own place until it was obvious that she could use the extra support going into her second year, and with that behind her, she’s a rocket ship.

She’s had prestigious internships with New York’s most powerful firms lined up every summer. There’s already talk around the city that no matter what she does, nobody will be able to topple her.

I know what they don’t—that Juliet won’t be joining one of those firms when she passes the bar in the fall. She’s starting her own firm, and it’s going to focus on representing victims of domestic violence in cases against their abusers.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

There are offers on the table from at least five big-name firms, but Juliet put the letters into her desk drawer one by one and hasn’t taken them out again. When the last one came, she waited until we turned out the light to talk to me about it.

“I can’t.” Her voice was soft in the darkness.

“You don’t have to take any of those offers.”

“I know.” She had gone quiet for a moment. “I don’t want you to think I’m not pulling my weight.”

I pulled her close to me under the covers. “I have other thoughts about you.”

“Oh?” I could hear the grin in her voice even in the dark. “Tell me about them.”

I showed her instead.

There’s a fanfare from the orchestra pit, and the lights in the auditorium flicker, then dim. I clap Don on the back. “Right on time!”

Together, we watch the processional and the valedictorian’s speech—it’s one of Juliet’s best friends in her year—and then we wait for her to take her trip across the stage.

“Juliet James,” intones President Wilson, and Juliet, beaming, floats across, somehow graceful in her black robe. Don snaps pictures with the digital camera she bought him for Christmas.

In the lobby afterward, it’s a crush of friends and family, and Juliet bursts out of the crowd and throws her arms around my neck. “I’m free! I’m finally free!”

I kiss her on the cheek, then let her greet her father. He recaps the entire ceremony for her, and she never once interrupts.

Outside on the sidewalk, the Town Car is parked at the curb. “Oh—Juliet,” I call.

She pauses, her hand on her father’s arm. “Did you forget something inside?”

“No.”

Her nose wrinkles with a smile. “Then what—”

I take a step closer to her. “There was one more thing I wanted to do.”

She grins at me, raising her eyebrows.

I drop to one knee in the center of the sidewalk, and Juliet’s mouth drops open.

“You’re very nearly a lawyer now,” I start out, and my throat tightens. I’m so proud of her. I love her so much. “And this is the place where everything began. Only now we’re at a new beginning.”

“Ask the question, son!” Don’s voice is brimming with joy.

“Juliet James, will you be mine for the rest of our days? Will you marry me?”

She extends her hand to me, making me stand up like a newly knighted lord, and then she’s kissing me, so hard that a cheer goes up around us. I let it go on until Don clears his throat, and then I step back to slip the ring onto her finger.

“I guess I’m tied down now.” Juliet watches the diamond sparkle in the sunlight, then looks up into my eyes, the light in her face something entirely wicked.

“In more ways than one,” I murmur into her ear. “I’ve never been happier.”

I move us toward the car, toward the lunch reservations, toward our official life together. “Never?” Juliet beams up at me. “Wait and see.”