Myles’s Epilogue
Myles's Epilogue
Nearly three years later…
It’s early. So early that it’s still dusky enough that it’s a little hard to see the lush line of palm trees at the edge of the beach.
The sky is pink and gold with the beginnings of sunrise, and like always here, the warm, humid air is heavy with brine and a hint of wood smoke. Noisy with birdsong.
When I was here before, I’d be up too late working most nights to wake up in time to come down to the beach before the sun was completely up, but some days, when I hadn’t worked the night before, I’d make myself do it.
Early mornings in Cambodia, especially on the coast, are easily one of the most beautiful things I’ve experienced anywhere in the world.
One of, but not the most beautiful.
That title forever belongs to the man currently clinging to my back, arms wrapped tight around my neck, legs gripping my waist. Yesterday, when we were walking over the low dunes to get down to the beach, there was an incident with a millipede.
A very, very small millipede.
Because he’s Charlie and he can read me like a damn book, the memory’s no sooner crossed my mind than he’s untangling one arm from around my neck and swatting my side. “Don’t you dare, Myles Marlow.”
“What?” I go for innocence, but it’s completely ruined by the way my voice shakes. “I wasn’t laughing.”
“You were about to. I could totally feel it.” Another swat on my side. “And you are laughing now.”
“Aren’t I allowed to laugh at my husband when he’s being adorable?” I give his thigh a tap and he uncurls his legs from around me, hopping down into the safety of the soft sand where I’ve come to a stop, far enough down the beach that he’s at no risk of running into millipedes.
To be fair, with the help of a heavy-duty pair of hikers and tall socks that no amount of biting the inside of my cheek was enough to keep me from laughing at, Charlie did successfully brave the bug-filled jungle temples we visited last week.
And when I’d taken him to see the tree growing up out of the crumbled blocks of an ancient stone wall I’d sketched in his book, he’d smiled that smile.
The one that, years ago, I’d stood in that exact same spot, closed my eyes, and imagined seeing spread across his face.
The same smile that’s lighting his eyes and lifting his soft, strawberry-tasting lips right now as he comes around in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Do you know how unfair it is that you know you can get away with anything if you call me your husband?”
I give in to the inevitable and kiss him. Just a quick, soft kiss that’s still enough to have the temperature of my blood spiking along with my pulse. “Isn’t that what you are?”
Impossibly, the brightness of his expression doubles. “Yes, but two weeks is so not enough time to get over it.”
“You’re planning to get over us being married?”
“Ugh, you are ridiculous. You know what I mean.” He’s laughing now too, snuggling close and laying his head on my shoulder.
He knows I always know what he means.
We make it far down the beach before the sun’s truly up.
Far enough that, once the two of us are sprawled out on the beach blanket we’ve brought with us, it feels like we have the entire beach to ourselves.
Way far back by the resorts, the dark shapes of people stand out against the pale sand, but here, it’s just us.
It’s not the night sky we’re watching, but suddenly, lying on my stomach, staring out at the water with Charlie’s arm wrapped around my waist and his leg thrown over mine reminds me of that night when we’d first gotten together, watching the meteor shower.
Since then, weather permitting, we’ve gone back to that spot every year—in April, and again, in August. Just like I’d wished we would when we were kids.
And that is what reminds me— “I forgot to tell you something after our wedding. I’d meant to tell you that night, but you made me forget.”
“I made you forget?” He’s grinning so smugly, he doesn’t even manage to look halfway scandalized.
“Yes, you made me forget.” Fucking hell, of course I’d forgotten. Just the memory of the white lace corset and garter belt I’d found under his tux has my dick aching and the thing I’d been just about to tell him all but evaporated from my thoughts.
“Did I also make you ride me until you came so hard that you had to wait a whole two hours before you could take a turn and fuck me?”
“Yeah, Charlie, you did.” I dig my fingers into his side, mercilessly loving the way, as always, he only squirms closer against me as he tries to escape. “You left me with absolutely no other choice.”
Which, if I’m not careful, is exactly what’s going to happen now. He’ll leave me with no other choice than to pack up our things immediately and head straight back to our hotel room for a repeat.
“So what’s this thing I made you forget?
” Charlie snuggles his face in against my neck.
His breathing’s a little ragged from how I just tickled him, and that and the bare, sun-warmed skin of his shirtless torso and the conversation we’ve just been having are so damn distracting, it takes me a minute to work out what he’s talking about.
I do remember though.
“Do you remember what I told you that night, when we’d first gotten together, when you picked me up and took me to watch the meteor shower? That I promised I’d tell you if what I wished for came true?”
He shifts his head out from the crook of my shoulder, tipping it forward so it’s right alongside mine, so close our noses brush. Green, beautiful eyes lock on mine. “It came true?”
“Yeah.” I run my fingers through his hair, down to stroke over the soft, warm skin at the back of his neck. “It did. I wished you’d marry me, Charlie. It’s what I’ve wished for, every meteor shower ever since.”
There’s a little more. A part of my wish I can’t tell him, because it hasn’t finished coming true. A part that won’t ever finish coming true.
He’s Charlie though. My Charlie. My person. And so it doesn’t matter that I’ll never tell him that part of my wish aloud. He knows me well enough to know that, when it comes to him loving me, nothing short of forever could ever be enough.
The End
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