I’ve perfected the art of turning a book page with just my thumb. Not that I’ve had much of a choice, given that Lina has been asleep on my chest the whole flight. I’ve never flown first class before, but I’m glad I can if it means she’s this close to me.
Meeting Alistair was an experience. Not exactly one I’m looking to repeat anytime soon, but it’s clear he loves Lina, and that’s enough for me. I’m also glad he backed me up on the Sinclair situation. I’ve already received the files from the bureau, and we can go through them once we get back to the cabin with Ella, Gable, Y and Silence. Ella texted that by the time we get back to the cabin, Gable will have a barbecue in full swing, which is good, because I’m starving.
“Sir?” A flight attendant stops by me, her smile soft as she looks at Lina. “We’ll be landing soon. Your wife will need to take her seat.”
I open my mouth to correct her but stop myself.
Instead, I thank her, and she keeps moving, preparing the others for landing, and I look down at Lina.
Wife. Not a term I’ve used in a while. My first marriage was wonderful, and losing her broke my heart. My second was a disaster, a whirlwind born out of fear of being alone, and ended terribly.
But something about Lina feels right. We keep getting drawn back to each other, so maybe that’s a sign.
I kiss her forehead. “We’re landing soon.”
“Good for us,” she grumbles.
I laugh. “Come on, you need to get back into your seat.”
She stretches, her body vibrating with the action, and nuzzles into my neck. “One more minute.”
How about forever?
The entire drive to the cabin, I keep glancing in Lina’s direction.
I’m close to fifty. She’s thirty. We want the same things—travel, the ranch, a quiet, murder-free life. We’ve led completely different lives up until this point, but it brought us together. And maybe, from this point on, our lives will be entwined.
It’s evening when we finally arrive. We park up, and, hand in hand, we round the property toward the patio.
“You know, I had a thought,” I say.
“Hm?” Lina looks up at me, and the glow of the lights strung up around the house reflects in her eyes.
I stop and keep hold of her hand, so she stops, too. She faces me, head tilted.
And … I’m not nervous.
Not unsure.
“Marry me.”
Lina’s lips part, and her eyes widen. “What?”
“I love you. Marry me.” I brush her hair back, allowingthe words to hang between us. This is the right thing. There aren’t many things in life I’m sure of, but I’m sure of this.
As we stand close, the humming of crickets playing around us and soft music drifting from the patio, Lina’s eyes shine.
“But … I’m a fuck-up.”
I laugh and press my forehead to hers. “You’re not.”
“I’m a monster, Guy.”
I regret those words, but I can’t turn back time, so I say what she said to me.
“My monster,” I whisper. “And you’re not a monster to me. You’re?—”
“Am I interrupting?”
