“What’s going on?” Annabeth asks, wearily.
“Please do not interrupt the mating ceremony,” Billie interjects, completely straight-faced. Annabeth and I burst into laughter, with Annabeth’s eyes going as wide as saucers.
“Princess, it’s abondingceremony,” I tell her.
She scowls at both of us, clearly unimpressed with our lack of seriousness. She purses her lips, clearing her throat before continuing, “This issupposedto bespecial.”
“Sorry, lovebug. Go on, please,” Annabeth says through a laugh.
“Annabeth, Daddy, please put your right hands together and hold your rope,” she explains, entwining her own hand inside the braid. As she knots the tri-coloured cord around our hands, she continues, “We; Annabeth, Billie-Mae, and Daddy, vow to love each other forever.”
Annabeth and I watch in awe as Billie recites her script, wrapping the cord into a figure eight knot around our hands. She’s careful, deliberate in every movement, her voice never faltering. I can feel Annabeth’s hand shaking as Billie pulls the cord, and the three of us fall silent.
The intricate ropes are tied around our hands in a perfect knot, binding us together. It’s such a simple and pure moment. My girl, my tiny little princess, planned this on her own. She memorised the script, worked with her uncle to learn how to tie the knot, and then made sure everything was packed and ready to go before she left for school this morning. I’m not joking, she wrote meinstructions.
Billie explains to us that we need to slip our hands from the ropes so she can fasten the knot, which effectively will conclude the bonding ceremony. We do as we’re told, and watch in silence as the braids curl together, and the knot seals.
“I love you,” Annabeth blurts, her free hand flying to her mouth as she realises what she’s said.
My heart stops, or is it beating faster? I don’t know. I’m sweating. My hands shake, my breath either stops, or gets faster, and I can’tfucking move. I’m frozen, standing next to two of the most important people in my life – not including from my brother – and I can’t speak. I must look like a right dickhead. I’m pretty sure my jaw is touching the floor; at least itfeelslike it is.
I’m waiting for someone to speak, then I realise that both Annabeth and Billie are staring at me like I’ve grown two heads and they’re both waiting formeto say something. What do I even say? How do I say anything to that except ‘I love you too’? Because,ofcourseI do.
Annabeth is everything I’m not. She’s wild, she’s brave, she’s not afraid to go after what she wants. I knew from the second I saw her that she would be my undoing. It’s everything. From her pink hair that glows in the dark, to the way her jeans always fit just a tad too perfectly, showcasing every curve.
Her voice – despite being about an octave lower than you’d expect – sounds like the most beautiful symphony I have ever heard, and that’s just when she speaks. I may have only heard her belt out a few songs, but she’s always humming to herself.
She smells like home. Shefeelslike home. There is no doubt in my mind that I am uncontrollably and irrevocably in love with this woman. So, the question that remains is, how in the ever-loving fuck do I tell her that?
“Anna—” I don’t even get her name out before I hear Billie’s voice.
“Dad, are you gonna just stand there, or are you gonnadosomething?”
Annabeth flashes me a sheepish look. Meanwhile, Billie has her hands on her hips and is scowling at me.
I take a deep breath, then the words start flowing. “Annabeth, you are, without a doubt, the most incredible person I’ve ever met. I don’tknow how to not want you near me. I feel like an idiot saying the words now, but I do. Of course I do. How could I not?”
Annabeth’s eyes lock onto mine, like she’s searching for answers. Her lips move slowly and it takes a minute for me to realise she’s mouthing, “I’m sorry”. I move closer to Annabeth, extending my hands until they rest on her freckled cheeks. Somewhere in the heat of the moment, I sense Billie create space between us, her blonde curls shining in my peripheral vision as she creeps away slowly.
“No, don’t do that, don’t apologise. You are brave, beautiful, kind. Fuck, you’reeverything, Annabeth. I didn't know I could love someone after Sam, let alonebeloved. I thought that was it for me, until I met you. I don’t know what gods I prayed to in another life that brought you to me, but I know that I amneverletting you go. I love you, Annabeth Harrington. I love you.”
She stares at me, her expression laced with a mixture of confusion and relief. Her lip quivers, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to sink my teeth into it. Tears well in the stormy-green pools beneath her lashes, making them even more breathtaking.
We don’t speak, the silence an eerie comfort as we stare at each other. The only sound is Billie’s faint humming and the echoing nature around us; birds chirp in the trees, frogs croak somewhere in the distance, and the creek flow echoes through my ears. This town is my home. My safe place.
I press my nose to hers, my heart pounding in my chest. Is it normal to forget how to breathe after you tell a girl you’re in love with her? Fuck, she’s probably about to punch me in the face.Dear god, Dallas, why do you always go there?
“I love you,” Annabeth says again.
That’s all I need to know. I reach for her, claiming her in my arms. Her body moulds into me instantly, like she was made for me. Her bubblegum strands tickle my chin as she rests her head on my chest. I feel the steady rhythm of her heart beating against me.
“Are you two gonna smooch already? I’m starving,” Billie yells from somewhere behind us.
Annabeth’s cheeks turn a shade of pink brighter than her damn hair, her freckles threatening to disappear beneath the blush. I squeeze her tighter, just for a moment, before leaning in and placing a single kiss on her forehead.
My firefly smiles at me, her expression softening now. I take her hand, guiding her to the picnic Billie has so graciously planned for us. We take our seats on the tartan rug, and as we sit, eat, and laugh, I feel a piece of me, that I didn’t even know was broken, heal.
Twenty-Four
