I stop by the window, looking out over the dark waves lapping at the shore. The moonlight glitters on the water, a silver path stretching into the horizon, and I find myself staring but seeing nothing. My thoughts spin, and the ache in my chest is palpable. I think about Rhett, and a sick feeling settles in my stomach. If he’s still at the wedding, laughing, enjoying the night as if I don’t exist, maybe not leaving was the wrong choice. Maybe I’ve let Max turn my head with his promises that Rhett loves me and his shocking offer of a job.
I pace again, wringing my hands, trying to decide if I should call Rhett, text him, or simply wait. But the truth is, the longer I wait, the more I realize that I don’t have control over his feelings. I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. Maybe he’s worried, maybe he isn’t. The thought is unbearable.
Finally, when more than two hours have passed, I make up my mind. I can’t sit here any longer. I need to do something, move, act, decide. I believed Max when he said Rhett is in love with me because I want it to be true. I genuinely think Max believes it too, but he could be wrong. It looks like we’re both wrong, because if Rhett has stayed partying at the wedding, then he obviously isn’t in a hurry to make up with me.
I grab my purse and sling it over my shoulder. Then I collect my suitcase and head toward the door. The suitcase rolls along behind me, the wheels clattering softly against the floor. I reach for the door handle, but before I can pull it open, it swings inward.
Rhett stands there, and my heart slams to a stop. He looks exhausted, his hair slightly mussed, and his shoulders slumped. His eyes are downcast, and for a moment, I think he’s disappointed, or worse, indifferent, but then he sees me, and his face lights up, as relief washes over him in a visible rush.
“Oh, thank God,” he breathes, stepping toward me. “I came from the airport. I thought I missed you.”
I blink, caught off guard. I step aside and let him in, closing the door and turning to face him once more.
“You … you were at the airport? Not the wedding?”
He nods, stepping closer to me, his hands reaching out but then hesitating in the air between us before dropping back down to his sides. “Yes. I went there first, thinking that’s where you would be. I wanted to beg you not to go. I can do that here instead. Don’t go, Pippa. Please. Stay. We’ll work it out. We’ve got something good going.”
“It’s not as dramatic when you’re running through an airport, though,” I say.
He grins, and I grin back.
“I love you,” he says softly. His voice is almost a whisper, yet there’s a firmness in his tone that leaves no room for doubt. “I’ve loved you for longer than I realized, and I don’t want you to leave. Not now, not ever.”
The words hit me like a tidal wave, sweeping away the last of my fears, my hesitations, and self-doubt. Without thinking, I step forward and throw my arms around him.
“I love you too,” I murmur against his chest. The words taste like freedom and warmth and relief all at once.
He smiles, soft and gentle, as his arms wrap tightly around me, holding me so close I can hear his heartbeat. I feel safe, understood, and cherished in a way I never thought I would. He lifts my chin, and our lips meet in a kiss that’s tender and electric, affirming everything we’ve felt but couldn’t say.
When we break apart, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out my ring. Strange how I automatically think of it as mine. My fingers brush against it, hesitating, and he shakes his head with a small laugh, the tension and worry fading from his eyes.
“It was never just on loan,” he confesses sheepishly, slipping it onto my finger with a reverence that makes my heart ache. “I bought it. It’s yours. It’s always been yours.”
I press my hand to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the palm of my hand. The room feels warm, the air thick with our emotions. And then, almost instinctively, we move toward the stairs. By the time we reach them, we are practically running and shedding our clothes as we go. We are naked by the time we tumble onto Rhett’s bed – or maybe now it’s our bed.
We kiss with a deep hunger, but there’s no rush now, just a tender, deliberate intimacy that’s more than physical. It’s theexpression of love, trust, and surrender. Every kiss, every touch is soft and careful, filled with the kind of passion that stems from deep connection, from knowing and being known.
We make love in a quiet, tender rhythm, the world outside ceasing to exist as Rhett makes me come hard. I cling to him. I never want this to end. We keep moving together, our bodies in perfect sync as we roll and tussle, first him on top and then me and then him again. I am on top when Rhett climaxes. He holds my hips, pinning me in place as his big, thick cock goes wild inside of me. I clench myself around him, and he calls out my name. Finally, when we are done, I lie down beside him, and we catch our breath.
There’s love and wonder in our whispered words, warmth in our shared smiles, and a sense of rightness that fills every corner of the room. For the first time in perhaps forever, I feel completely at home, completely myself, and completely loved.
Every time I move my hand, the ring glints on my finger, and I almost want to pinch myself to make sure it’s real. But it is. I know it is. And once I have accepted that much, I realize that the fears, the humiliations, the doubts, they all seem trivial now. What matters is that Rhett and I are together, finally, and we are unguarded and honest. I tell him about Max’s offer, and he smiles.
“Do you want to do it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Good. That’ll mean you’ll have to move to New York.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to.”
I drift off to sleep thinking about the new turn my life has taken and how the future stretches out before me now, exciting and beautiful. I know, with a certainty deep in my bones, that this is exactly where I belong.
Chapter Forty-Two
Pippa
The morning sun pours through the kitchen windows, painting the room in golds and pinks. I sit at the table with a cup of coffee in front of me, staring out over the beach. The previous night is still alive in my mind, and I can’t sleep, although it’s not a bad feeling. I think it’s more excitement that has woken me up early. I can’t keep the smile from my face when I think of Rhett, the words, the ring. I can still feel the warmth of him, the safety, the love. It’s all real. It’s not an act. It never was. I should probably send Max a thank you note, because if it wasn’t for him, I would be gone, back in London, hating my life choices.
