Epilogue
EPILOGUE
1 YEAR LATER
“Nico?”
“Yes, sweet?”
“I’ve had another idea. About my future.”
“Oh, good, let’s hear it.”
“No need to take that tone. You might like this one. And I brought you coffee.”
If mornings started around noon, then perhaps I could be persuaded to become a morning person. Judging by the shade of sunlight through a chink in the bedroom shutters and the effort required to heave myself back into the land of the living, I suspected we were still several hours short of that. In my defence, I’d been on the oyster beds with Max and my dad until midnight, a fact éti’s fizzing brain chose to overlook.
I opened one cautious eye to find her cross-legged next to me, hazardously waving the coffee around. At this ungodly hour, her hair was yet to benefit from a comb, spraying wild and untamed around her head. An outwards reflection of her spirit. She beamed down at me, a wonderful thing in itself. Maybe I could be a morning person after all.
“Go on then. Hit me with it.”
“So, I was thinking.” She handed me the coffee and clasped her hands together. “You know when I retire, I’m like, going to set up some cool stuff to help trans people? And adopt about fifteen babies? And, like, be an all-round good egg?”
Nodding, I sipped my coffee. “Are these activities in addition to being an important international ambassador for French soccer?”
“Naturally.” Her grin spread impossibly wide as she waggled the simple gold band on her third finger. “And a most excellent wife.”
She hadn’t waited until retirement to fulfil that role. We’d tied the knot three months earlier, a quiet ceremony in the presence of my family and a handful of close friends. Since then, she shoehorned the word wife into as many conversations as possible. It was fucking adorable.
“Anyhow, as well as the big stuff, I thought I could do something closer to home, too. Much closer.”
Her eyes strayed to the window and the ever-brightening sunlight behind the shutters. Beyond that lay the ocean and my oyster beds. “Isn’t it nice, Nico, when we have our little picnics outside in the sunshine? You know, a hunk of bread, maybe a glass of rosé, a plate of six oysters?—”
“Or twelve, in your case.”
“?a alors, Nico, so pedantic .”
I had an inkling of where this conversation headed. My mum and dad had enjoyed similar exchanges for years. My dad never caved, but then, he wasn’t a soft touch like me. Also, my mum had been less wealthy.
“La Forge Oyster Farms are a very serious business, you know,” I said, trying for a stern approach, tricky when someone was walking their fingers along your collarbone. “We’re major wholesalers.”
“Major wholesalers with a prime position on the cycle path and a stone’s throw from the beach. And a courtyard only ever used for storing tatty pieces of boring equipment.”
“Essential equipment.”
“Essential equipment which could easily be stored in a new shed around the back.”
The fingers circled my nipple. Sensibly, I put my mug on the bedside table. “Just imagine, Nico; umbrellas—rainbow-coloured ones—and rustic picnic tables hewn out of chunks of oak. And a welcome shack, like Florian’s salt shack, where people could place an order, grab a carafe of rosé and a basket of bread, and taste your magnificent oysters. The finest on the island.”
“Lots of people already do,” I pointed out. “Christoph, who runs the oyster beds in Loix, has had a similar place for years.”
My answer had been yes for the past five minutes. In fact, I’d mulled it over ever since my mum had died, as some sort of tribute to her memory. My dad had downloaded the planning forms. But it did no harm making éti work for it. On the contrary; her ministrations, now comprising a warm palm around my dick, were a delightful way to wake up.
“I can make it worth your while.” Her eyes flicked down to my groin hidden under the duvet.
“You make it worth my while every morning anyway.”
“I could add in breakfast. And let you go back to sleep afterwards.”
I pretended I was weighing it up. My dad wasn’t expecting me in at work later. And breakfast was tempting. Not to mention that hand… putain. So good.
She switched to the other hand.
“So that’s a yes?”
Did I mention how good? “Yes. To everything. Always. Forever.”
THE END