Submitting to my Ex Uncle-Chapter 231

The sky was gray when Dominic arrived. Not the heavy kind of gray that promised rain. The sky was just peaceful and still.

The wind moved softly through the trees, bending the tall grass along the path as he walked. There was no one else around. Just the faint rustle of leaves, the quiet murmur of a faraway bird, and the sound of his footsteps against the gravel.

He stopped when he reached the marble stone. It was pale, with the color faded in places. Tiny weeds had crept up along the sides, curling around the carved edges of her name.

Dominic’s throat tightened.

He crouched slowly. His suit jacket brushed against his knees. For a long moment, he just stared at the gravestone. His reflection was faintly mirrored against its surface.

Then, quietly, he reached forward.

His fingers brushed the weeds first. They gave way easily under his touch. He pulled them out one by one. He pulled every one of them, the small stubborn ones near the letters, and even the taller ones at the base. Some dirt clung to his palms, but he didn’t seem to notice cause he didn’t care.

He worked carefully, and almost reverently, until the marble was clear again. Then he brushed off the dust from the carved name with his sleeve.

"Good morning, ma’am," he murmured finally. His voice was so soft, and barely above the wind. "It’s been a while."

He sat back slowly, resting one arm over his knee. His other hand held a small bouquet of white tulips, fresh, and wrapped simply. He laid them down gently in front of the grave.

"I’m sorry I haven’t come sooner," he said softly. "I should have."

The wind moved through the trees again.

Dominic looked up briefly, his eyes were soft. "Celeste told me you loved flowers like these."

He smiled faintly to himself. "She’s right, you know. About almost everything."

He paused, and for a moment, he said nothing. He just sat there, looking at the name carved in stone. Then, with a quiet exhale, he spoke again.

"I came here because... I wanted to tell you something. Something really important."

His voice was steady, though low. He looked down at his hands then back up at the grave.

"I asked your daughter to marry me," he said. "And she said yes."

The silence that followed was full, but not heavy. The world had stopped to listen to him speak.

Dominic’s lips curved up, barely. "I’ll be marrying her in a month from now."

He paused, then laughed softly under his breath. It was a quiet, shaky sound when it left his lips. "A month. She said it so calmly, like she wasn’t telling me the best news of my life." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"I wanted to tell you myself," he went on. "And I wanted to ask..." His words faltered for a second. "I wanted to ask for your blessing."

The wind blew a little stronger then, brushing past him. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the air against his face.

"I know I’m not perfect," he murmured. "And I know I’ve made mistakes. Some that even now, I’m still trying to make peace with. But Celeste..."

His throat tightened again, but he didn’t stop.

"Celeste makes me want to be a better man every single day. She’s gentle, but she’s strong. She’s kind in ways the world doesn’t deserve. And she’s... she’s everything, ma’am. Everything I didn’t know I needed."

He swallowed hard, the weight in his chest pressing deeper. "She saved me," he said softly. "Without even knowing she did."

Once again, for a long moment, he said nothing more. He just sat there, with his elbows resting on his knees, with his hands folded loosely.

He finally parted his lips again. "She’s pregnant." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. He smiled in disbelief.

"She told me last night," he said. "And I can’t even explain what I felt. For a while, I couldn’t move. I didn’t think I was made for that kind of happiness. But then I saw her smile, and it was like everything I’d been running from didn’t matter anymore."

He let out a long breath, his lips curving faintly again. "You would’ve been proud of her. She’s been through so much, and still she smiles like light."

Dominic lowered his head slightly, staring at the marble name again. "I promise you, I’ll protect her. Always. I’ll protect both of them. I won’t let anything touch her peace."

His hand came up to his mouth briefly as he exhaled. His eyes were glassy but dry. "You raised a good woman," he said quietly. "And I swear to you, I’ll love her like she deserves to be loved. Gently, and honestly, for as long as I live."

The wind blew softly again, carrying the faint scent of the flowers.

Dominic tilted his head back slightly, looking at the sky and then, he let out a breath that trembled just enough to betray him.

"I don’t know if you can hear me," he said, his voice almost breaking now. "But I hope you can see her. She’s happy. She’s safe. And soon, she’ll be mine in every way."

He smiled again, smaller this time. "I’ll take care of her. You have my word."

For a long while, he sat there in silence.

He didn’t check his phone. He didn’t look at the time. He just sat there, and the cool air around him hugged him gently.

When he finally rose, he brushed the dirt off his palms and adjusted his jacket. Then he looked down once more at the grave.

"Thank you," he murmured. "For her."

He stepped back, but his gaze was still on the stone. "And for trusting me with her. You gave me the kind of love I didn’t think I deserved, through her."

Dominic stood there for a long while. His eyes traced every letter on the marble as though memorizing it. The stillness around him was so complete that even the sound of his breathing felt too loud.

He crouched again, brushed his thumb across her name once more, and smiled faintly. He lowered his gaze. "I wish I met you," he whispered. "I really do. I think you would’ve made me nervous." He laughed quietly to himself. "You probably would’ve seen through me faster than she ever did."

The wind blew again, softer this time.

Dominic let it wash over him. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet. He stood straight, his hands in his pockets, looking down at the grave like he was memorizing a face.

"I’ll come again," he promised. "Maybe I’ll bring Celeste next time."

He smiled faintly again. "I think you’d like the way she loves me. She doesn’t do it loudly. She doesn’t even realize when she does. It’s in the small things. Like when she brushes her fingers through my hair without knowing. Or when she waits to eat just so we can do it together. It’s quiet. But it’s steady."

His eyes softened. "It’s the kind of love that doesn’t fade."

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small piece of folded paper. The edges were slightly creased, but his handwriting on it was neat and careful. He crouched again and set it beside the flowers.

"I wrote you a letter," he said quietly. "Nothing much. Just... me trying to tell you what words can’t carry when I speak."

He exhaled. "You don’t owe me your blessing, ma’am. Not after all I’ve done. But if you do decide to give it... I’ll spend every day of my life proving I deserve it."

For a moment, he stayed like that. Crouched, with his head bowed slightly. The silence between the world and him felt sacred.

When he finally stood again, there was peace in his eyes.

He looked at the sky once more. The clouds had parted slightly, letting through a soft ray of sun that brushed across the marble. It lit up the carved name faintly, almost as if smiling back.

Dominic’s breath caught. He laughed quietly, shaking his head. "You really are something," he murmured. "Even now."

He took one last look, then turned around and began walking back down the path. The gravel crunched beneath his shoes, steady and unhurried.