I came with her wrapped round me, whispering what I never knew how much I needed to hear – from her.
Epilogue
Sophie
“Iswear, leaving towels on the bed when they’re wet is something you go to hell for!” I picked up the two bath sheets that my husband-to-be had draped over the eight hundred thread count bedding – the bed was unmade because that was something he had no idea how to do – and lobbed them onto the pile of jeans and T-shirts that were in the corner. I’d just about trained him to keep his not-quite-clean-not-quite-dirty clothes in one corner of the room, and we’d worked on translating that to when we were in a room other than our own too.
Like now.
We’d left Iceland another week after he’d come out of hospital, thoroughly rested and even more engaged than we were before. A week of nothing but each other with the occasional meal with Liam’s father and his wife and many hours spent in the thermal pools had been nothing short of blissful.
We’d made decisions. We’d decided to buy the hotel and spa and put an offer in, which was accepted because it was Liam and the current owner just sat there and swooned over him. It would become my spa, with accommodation for Liam’s guests and producers. The recording studios and rehearsal rooms would be in the wing of Ms Egalldottir’s former building. The rest of it would be our home.
And then the wedding plans had grown.
The dozen guests had become forty. The venue we’d chosen because they had availability and not for not many reasons was paid off and cancelled and we found another, a London hotel that was happy to cancel other guests' stays when Liam said he’d pay for each guest that was affected to stay at another time. His bandmates were persuaded to play, along with Roisin who had kind of grown on Liam like mould, and we were now joined by his father, half-sisters and Elsa, as well as most of the Callaghan clan and friends.
We’d abandoned any form of tradition. I refused to wear a white dress as I was convinced I’d be struck by lightning and we weren’t doing the whole not seeing each other the night before crap.
A box that had been uncovered when I launched the towels sat on the bed. It was blue velvet and old, a tarnished clasp at the front.
I picked it up and studied it, unsure if it was for me or not.
“Found it then? Knew you couldn’t resist moving the towels.” Liam leaned against the door frame that led into the bathroom.
“Is it for me?”
“No, it’s for the cleaner as a tip. You keep telling me I’m untidy…”
I debated throwing the box at his head in return for his sarcasm, but curiosity got the better of me.
I opened the box. An opal that reminded me of the Northern Lights, shimmering in the glint of the sun through the window was embedded into a gold ring that still looked a little tarnished and fragile.
“It was my grandmother’s on my father’s side and the only family heirloom I’m ever likely to have. Andrew gave it to me to pass to you as a proper engagement ring, seeing as I didn’t choose the first one. I’ll eventually choose you a ring myself.”
I actually really liked the first ring, but this was stunning. I had no idea if it would fit, or if it was meant to, but that it had come from part of his family that he was only just learning about told me even more around what he wanted in the future.
When I looked over at Liam to respond, he was on one knee, looking up at me like I’d not just hung the moon, but his wet towels on the moon as well.
“Sophie Slater, will you do me the honour of marrying me?”
I looked at him, aware I was standing there in my dressing gown, no make-up on and hair that could only be described as having been styled by this morning’s sex marathon.
“Liam Rosehill, I think I will.” I held out the ring to him and my hand. The first ring was tucked away in the safe – it was too prominent to sleep with it on. “It’s beautiful.”
He didn’t say anything, just placed the ring on my little finger where it fitted and smiled.
* * *
It was a different wedding to any of my others.
This felt different than anything else. Any plans we’d made had kind of disintegrated as our rather larger-than-life friends had decided to do their bit.
I hadn’t walked down an aisle by myself, we’d done it together. Seph had offered to give me away but I’d never been keen on the idea of being a possession, so instead Liam and I had walked it together, coming down a set of stairs that had been decorated with fairy lights, possibly millions of them, with Liam’s old bandmates playing their version of ‘White Wedding’.
Our vows were written by us, short, to the point, referencing Iceland and buildings and contracts, all tongue in cheek until he got to his punchline.
I’ve never known what it is to love someone until I fell in love with you.
