We’ve talked a bit about considering another home in the UK, but so far, nothing has compelled us enough to go back. I think his sister likes to see him living his life away from the manor. That is, after she gave us the cold shoulder for three months because we eloped in Fiji rather than have the big lavish wedding she was hoping for.
But now that she’s over that, I think she’s happy that he’s happy.
When Declan and I get home, our small black cat greets us at the door, purring against my leg until I pick him up.
“I’m sorry, Romeo,” I say, nuzzling his face with kisses. “We left you home alone all day.”
“He likes being alone,” Declan adds, petting the cat’s head. “Don’t you, boy?”
Setting the cat down, I nearly tumble over onto my head, and Declan quickly grabs my arm and hoists me to my feet.
“Easy, Shakespeare. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Naked?” I ask with a slur and a coy smile.
He only chuckles as he slides my jacket off my shoulders anddrapes it over the back of one of our leather chairs in the front room. Then he kneels in front of me and unlaces my shoes before helping me out of them.
As he drags me up the stairs to our bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the ocean, I nearly pass out as he continues disrobing me. And once I’m down to my knickers, I collapse into our bed, face-first, and shut my eyes against the silk pillowcase.
A moment later, the bed dips as he climbs in on his side. For some reason, even though I’m pissed out of my mind, I don’t fall asleep right away. Instead, I peel my eyes open to stare at him through the moonlit darkness.
Warmth radiates in my chest as I take in the sight of him. He’s gazing up at the ceiling, and I wonder what’s going through his mind—that beautiful, creative, stormy mind of his.
Does he still love this life?
Will he continue to love it after another year? Ten years? Twenty?
Is there any part of him that misses the freedom he felt when he was alone? When he didn’t have to go to therapy every week, and reopen old wounds and face the demons taking up space in his mind?
Will he ever resent me for the change I’ve brought to his life?
“Declan,” I whisper.
He turns his head toward me in response.
“I love you,” I say.
Shifting to his side, he hooks an arm around my waist and tugs me closer, until our bodies are flush on the bed.
“I love you too,” he replies.
“What were you thinking about?” I ask.
“How bloody good you were in that movie,” he says. “You’re a shoo-in for an Oscar nod, for sure. So then I started thinking about if I’d wear a kilt to the Oscars, because as you said, I do look really bloody good in it, but I don’t want to steal any of yourthunder, so perhaps I’d just stick with a black tux…” He pauses in his long ramble. “Why are you laughing?”
I can’t help giggle into my pillow as I listen to him go on and on, and it just seems funny to me that while I’ve been stressing about the past, he’s been planning our future.
“Nothing,” I reply with a hiccup. “I just love you. And you should definitely wear the kilt. That way, even if I lose, I’ll still be the guy who brought the handsome bloke in the kilt to the Oscars.”
“Deal,” he says before sealing our lips with a kiss.
“Good night, Declan,” I whisper as I close my eyes.
I can practically hear him smile as he replies, “Night, Shakespeare.”
Epilogue
Declan
