Rhoswen’s lips curve in remembrance. “It sits proudly next to my stuffed Highland Cow.”
I roll my eyes at her before turning my eyes back toward the rest of the family. “I’m not sorry for wanting you all to meet Rhoswen. But there are two things I will apologize for.”
“What could you possibly want to apologize for?” Corinna asks from the shelter of Colby’s arms.
“I’m sorry for not sharing all of this with you before now.” Then my gaze drifts over to Rhoswen. “And I’m sorry for not introducing you to Rhoswen sooner. I should have trusted my family.”
Cassidy pushes up from her seat. She makes a beeline directly for me. Before I can stop her, she throws her arms around my waist—tiny thing that she is. Soon after, I feel the arms of the rest of my “kids”—Phil, Emily, Alison, Corinna, and Holly—around me as well.
Overlapping each other, their voices finally make me believe I’m worth the vow tattooed on my forearm.
“We love you, Charlie.”
“You saved us.”
“You didn’t set anything in motion.”
“You helped stop it.”
I don’t argue. I’ve said what needed saying to all the people who matter the most—my family and Rhoswen. The people I expect to be in my life for a long time. After a long moment, I decide I’ve done enough talking. Because tonight isn’t about any more epiphanies. It’s about family.
Joy.
Revelry.
And we’re well past time showing Rhoswen we excel at celebrating that.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SIX DAYS AGO
Mornings with Charliecan be dangerous. After a night of pleasure, I wake in a malleable daze. Nothing exists beyond the sheets that are warmed by his body.
It’s a daily injection of hope that I want to last every single day of the year.
We didn’t go out last night, electing for our own private celebration. Knowing I spend my days with students, we elected to welcome the new year barefoot in his kitchen, slow dancing to music and sipping wine from the same spot in the same glass.
He kissed me at midnight like our hearts are in their own gravitation pull.
Now, I’m still up in the memories. Not in a hurry to move but knowing I’ll need to soon.
I’m sprawled across Charlie’s stomach. His muscular arm holds me tight against the side of his body—keeping me close not just in body but in spirit. I trace the faint scar near his collarbone with my lips. He exhales, fingers tightening slightly at my hip.
“You’re awake,” he murmurs.
“Mm. Have been.”
“How long?”
“Long enough to validate that when you drink red wine, you snore very lightly.”
He scoffs. “I do not.”
“No, you’re right. You conduct a marching band of elephants out of your mouth when you snore.”
His chest rumbles beneath my cheek. “That’s…specific.”
I smile against his skin. “You want specific? You should read the paper I graded last week on the historical context of elephants during the Renaissance.”
