Runaway - Chapter 41 #2
He smiled. But he didn’t say anything at all.
I could tell what he was thinking though.
I’d gotten very good at reading his silence.
He reached out and lightly traced my jawline with his index finger.
Tonight he was thinking about all the questions he couldn’t ask me.
The questions we’d stopped talking about over the years.
I’d told him that I’d tell him when I was ready. “Thank you for loving me,” I said. “Even though sometimes I make it hard.”
His fingers dipped down my neck, tracing my clavicle. “Loving you is easy.”
Loving him was easy too. Like we just fit perfectly together. We lived in a bubble. A perfect bubble that I loved. Yes, sometimes I wondered how the people I left behind were. But I never wanted to go back. Never. “I’ve been thinking.”
He didn’t say a word.
I slowly sat up and stared at the stars. We’re written in the stars. That’s what Miller had said. I straddled him, locking my arms behind his neck.
His hands settled on my waist.
“I did some research,” I said. “And…it would be really hard to get married with our fake IDs.”
He nodded. I think it’s what he expected. For me to tell him I wasn’t ready. Again.
But that wasn’t what I was saying. “The dead couple whose identity we took…they were married. I don’t think you’ve ever seen my ID. But I have the same last name as you already. Thompson. Jane and George Thompson. We’re already married.”
“Are we?” He smiled, but it looked sad.
“Mhm.”
“Jane and George are married. But we’re not Jane and George Thompson. Brooklyn, I want you to take my last name.”
“Won’t it be weird for my last name to be Miller? Since I call you Miller?”
“Do you think it would be weird for your last name to be Miller?”
I was a Sanders. I’d thought about being a Caldwell. I’d been forced to be a Pruitt for a short time. “Brooklyn Miller. It feels more meaningful than anything else. Especially since I call you Miller.”
His eyes locked with mine.
“I like the sound of it.”
“You do?”
“I do.” I dropped my forehead to his. “I think I’m almost ready.”
He exhaled slowly and I breathed him in. I’d never felt this close to anybody. I knew that. My heart knew it. And I was pretty sure my head did too. “Do you ever still think about going to college?”
He pulled his head back so he could look at me. “I’m really happy exactly where I am. I wouldn’t change a thing. Except for your last name.”
I smiled down at him.
“What about you?” he asked. “Do you think of going to school?”
“No.” What would I even do with a college degree?
I was already doing what made me happy. I got to bake every day.
I got to grow fresh vegetables in the garden.
Swim in the lake in the spring and summer.
Dance the night away with Miller. Curl up with him under a blanket and drink hot chocolate in the winter.
My life was perfect. It truly was a fairytale.
“I’m happy exactly where I am too,” I said. “With you. With this life we created.”
“And you’re sure it wouldn’t give you peace of mind to figure out what everyone you left behind is up to?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to know.” I could have looked it up too. I’d been tempted a few times. But I never typed their names into Google. I never signed up for any social media accounts. I liked being a ghost online. I liked not knowing. The less I knew the better.
“Do you really think we’re safe here?” I asked.
“I do. And now you have your own car. Just in case something does happen when I’m not home. I know you wanted that.”
I looked over at the old car next to his new truck. Having it was a sense of security. If he took his truck to work now, I’d still be able to get away if Isabella showed up.
He cradled my face in his hands, pulling me back to the present. He was good at that. Distracting me from my wandering thoughts of the future. I needed that. I needed him.
“Happy 30 th birthday, Miller.”
“I wasn’t super excited to turn 30. But it certainly beats the alternative. I want to grow old with you.”
“You’ll always be a lot older than me.”
“Hey.” He tickled my side in retaliation to my comment.
Which turned into a full out tickle war. And we somehow managed to knock over the picnic basket. His cake I’d painstakingly spent hours on toppled onto the front of my dress.
“Crap,” I said. I went to wipe it off when he caught my hand.
“This was how I wanted to eat it anyway.” He pushed my strap off my shoulder and licked some icing off the top of my breast.
I laughed. “You still have to make a wish.”
He pushed my dress down, exposing my breasts. He lightly blew on my nipple, making it harden, as if he was making a wish off that instead of a candle. “I have everything I need right here.”
I caught his head before he devoured more cake. “Well I’ll make a wish if you won’t.”
“And what’s your wish, gorgeous?”
I smiled. “A million more birthdays just like… this .” I slammed some cake into his face.
He laughed and kissed me, smushing some of the cake back onto my face.
My laughter quickly turned to moans as he devoured every inch of me.