The girls, all five of them, surrounded him in a litany of squeals and giggles as they each took their turn to be picked up.
We headed inside to dinner where Ryan regaled us with tales of his travels, I wondered which one would inspire his next novel. His first had made him one of the youngest people to get a publishing deal.
As always, Alfie ate mostly one-handed, his other hand holding my thigh. After ten years, it never failed to make me melt.
Nobody brought gifts for Alfie, he didn’t want them, instead he took donations, that’s what mattered more to him these days.
He would accept a cake though, about that he had no choice. Ada insisted and took great pride in baking one for every occasion. Elliot helped her carry it out and there was the usual flurry of trying to control children around cake and candles.
Alfie blew out his candles to a raucous applause. He pulled me in for a hug, burying his face in my hair the way he always did when he was overwhelmed.
Together, we’d filled this place with noise and laughter and love.
There was some grey in his hair now, some lines around his eyes but somehow, I loved him more. I loved him when he became a father and set about reading every book he could find on the subject and researching the best car seats for safety.
I loved him when he began his foundation to support young men who had been abused, not just offering therapy but opportunities to build a career. Using his years of experience and contacts, he helped them get apprenticeships, business loans…his foundation paid for all of it.
The hours passed by and while the adults continued celebrating, it was time to take our little ones up to bed. Alfie carried a sleeping Eden over his shoulder. When we reached our floor he stopped to kiss Flora goodnight before heading down the hall with our toddler. Eden would be ready for a proper bed soon but not yet. I wanted to keep her in her cot just a little longer.
Flora led me into her room, chattering about how absolutely super good the cake was. Together we brushed her teeth and dressed her in her favourite nightgown.
“Which story shall we have tonight?” I asked as she snuggled up under the duvet.
“Can we look at grandma’s book?”
“Of course.” I pulled my mothers old plant guide off the shelf. It was more worn than it had been a few years ago since Flora had looked through it a hundred times. In her small voice, she started reading out each plant and their meanings, turning the latin words over as carefully as she could.
Eventually, she fell asleep in my arms, the book still open in her lap just as I’d done with my mother so many times. As I tried to do every night, I took a moment for myself. In the quiet, the still part of the day where I transitioned between business owner and mother, to the night, when I could be woman and wife.
I marvelled at the luck of my life. The hardships I’d survived, the challenges we’d faced. At the end of all of it there was this. There was this home and the people downstairs that filled my life with chaos and laughter. There were these two beautiful little souls that had my hair and his eyes and most of all, there was him. Him with his razor sharp wit and unending generosity. His too-big heart and his patience that made him an incredible father. His passion and intensity that made his name the first word on my lips when I woke and the last thing on my mind when I slept.
The man who showed me every day that the art of seduction was still his mother tongue.
I knew, just as surely as I knew my own name, that those steel greys, that mouth, that scarred brow would be on my mind till the day I died.
Every now and again, I thought of the prince and the princess in the story of the bleeding heart flower. I thought of how Alfie had tried to do the same as the prince, had tried to buy my affection with pretty gifts and sweet things. Just like the princess, it hadn’t worked with me either. It wasn’t enough for me either. I neededmore. I needed everything in his heart, in his soul and when I’d finally had it, only then could our love sustain us for life.
What a gift that was, to spend your life wrapped in an immortal love.
Alfie
It was late by the time the house finally settled. Ada might love putting the girls to bed but it was always my favourite part of the day. To make sure they had parents that kissed them goodnight every night. It was something Lola hadn’t always had and something I’d never had.
It was late by the time everyone was ready to leave. Ada and Elliot had gone to bed hours ago, Grace and Ethan were upstairs putting their boys to bed. Lola was outside waving everyone off and saying a final goodnight to Keira. The house was a catastrophe, everywhere there was evidence of my birthday party. It had become her obsession, that wife of mine, to go all out every year. She was trying to make up for all the birthdays I’d missed as a child and I loved her for it.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and smiled when I saw a text from her.
Fancy that roll in the grass now the party is over?
I headed straight out the back door. Quietly, I crossed the patio to the path that led around the house, just as I rounded the corner I hit something warm and familiar.
She fell to the ground, laughing. “Well this is a trip down memory lane.”
I helped her up, wrapping an arm around her waist. She pressed against me, her breasts plush against my chest. “Is there a reason you weren't looking where you were going, Mrs O’Connell?”
“I was distracted,MrO’Connell.” She gave me that same indignant look she had given me all those years ago. “You could apologise too, you know. I didn't fall on my own.”
I flashed her a grin. “Oh baby, I don't apologise unless it's court ordered.”
