Great and Precious Things

by Rebecca Yarros

“You don’t have to. You’ve always been bigger on actions than words. I don’t need you to say it. What I need is for you to realize that my love isn’t going to change or lessen because someone makes a comment or you have a bad day. I love you unconditionally, Camden. At your worst? I love you. At your best? Yep, still love you. And until you can accept that, I’ll be right here proving it to you. Choosing you.”

Tillie’s smile drooped, and I almost laughed. Man, she had it bad for Cam, and Cam only had it bad for me. The thought had me smiling from ear to ear. It felt a hair shy of criminal to be this happy.

“I knew.” My shoulders lifted in a shrug. “There are three things you can count on when it comes to Cam.” I held my fingers up as I began to list them. “One, his family is first. He always cleaned up Sullivan’s messes so nothing bad ever stuck to him.”

“Two, he’ll self-destruct at the first opportunity. And three, he shows up for me. I didn’t always see it back then, but it’s true. There was no chance that he wasn’t coming in after me if he knew I was in there.”

He set the burger back in its box. “Pika, I’m going to lose my dad’s case because Judge Bradley doesn’t think I’m capable of being responsible for a puppy, let alone my father’s care. The fact that I love you is the icing on an already burned cake.” It didn’t matter that he’d told me every day for the last few weeks that he loved me—it still hit me in the heart like it was the first time. “I…I…” No matter how hard I tried, words wouldn’t form. “I am, you know—capable of taking care of a puppy. I was thinking maybe one of those English bulldogs with all the wrinkles, but I figured I’d ask what you thought first.” He took a sip of the shake and grinned.

“Then, this is where you do that. Where you love me. That’s all I need.”

I sat up, then handed my towel to Owen, who muttered, “The windows are really expensive.” “Relax,” I whispered. Throw one guy through a window, and you’ll still be getting shit for it six years later.

“I didn’t ask your permission to date your daughter because it’s not up to you. What happens between Willow and me requires the consent of two people: Willow”—I held up one finger and then the second—“and me. You’re not in that equation.”

“If you want my intentions, here they are. I’m going to marry your daughter. Then I’m going to spend every day of my life making her as happy as possible. But when I ask her to be my wife, you won’t know. I won’t ask your permission because she’s not a piece of property, and I won’t respect your tradition because you don’t respect that it’s really her choice. And if she says yes, you’ll only know if she tells you. You’ll only know if we get married if she chooses to invite you. You’ll only know if we have a child if she deems you worthy to know, worthy of being in her life.”

“You two are nauseating,” Charity mumbled. “Not that I’m not happy you finally pulled your heads out of your asses, because that had to be the longest slow burn I’ve ever seen in my life.” “Charity! Language!” Mom snapped. She merely rolled her eyes. “You act like you’re the only person who knew what was going on,” Mom mumbled. “Who do you think distracted your dad while Willow snuck out to rescue all of Cam’s stuff that night? Huh?”

Milton paled. “Thank you for the explanation, Your Honor. Could you tell us when the request was made?” “Last night. Apparently, his daughter is in a relationship with one of the parties, and he felt he couldn’t be impartial.” She adjusted her thin-framed glasses. “The docket has been updated online, naturally.”

His eyes met mine, softening exponentially. “I’m stubborn, Willow. Not stupid,” he repeated with a wry smile. “I’ve presided over thousands of cases, and none of them—including this one—is worth losing my daughter over.” He looked around my head. “Either of my daughters.” “Thank you,” I whispered. “Just remember that I’m sitting with you, Willow. You and Charity and your mother. Not him.” He nodded toward Cam. “You.”

“He did well,” Dad whispered as Milton rose to question Cam. “Strong, clear voice, sound reasoning, and no ill will harbored toward Xander. Very well.” “If you ever decide to give up the bench, you could always go for a career in courtroom commentating,” I whispered.

“I’m not a child. I am a man who deserves the dignity of controlling what happens to his body.”