Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
ELIZABETH
Beautiful Morning
Fallon’s eyelids slowly blink open, and he sleepily watches me from the pillow as I draw musical notes on his hip with a permanent marker.
“Morning, beautiful,” he says in a husky cadence. “What time is it?”
We didn’t get much sleep last night. After telling Charlotte, Christopher, and Marcus our news, the night ran away from us when Charlotte went into wedding planning mode, and once Fallon and I got to bed, sleep was the furthest thing from our minds.
I’m existing on three cups of strong coffee at the moment.
I’ll probably crash as soon as the plane takes off.
“Six,” I reply, adding a barred eighth note, then blowing lightly on the ink to set it. Goose bumps erupt over his skin.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Because I wanted to watch you sleep,” I answer truthfully.
He looked too peaceful and too perfect, and I kept waiting for the guilt to come because he was sleeping where Ryder used to sleep. But the guilt never came. Having Fallon next to me felt…right.
He sits up and glances down at my handiwork. Using his body as my canvas, I penned several measures of the song I wrote for him on his skin. He leans in and kisses me. “Draw that up, and I’ll send it to Bastard.”
I run my fingers over his hip. “You want him to tattoo this?”
“I want your mark on me,” he says and thumbs the love bite exposed on my bare shoulder.
Fallon and I were not gentle in our lovemaking last night. I’m covered in the evidence.
Taking the pen from my grasp, he uncaps it and pulls my tank top down, then writes something on the upper swell of my left breast, right above my heart. I don’t have to look to see what it is. I feel the letters as he writes them. I LOVE YOU .
“Ditto,” I tell him and peck a kiss to the tip of his nose before climbing off the bed to change into a short-sleeved polo shirt with a collar. I was able to mask the hickey on my neck with makeup, but there’s no hiding the bite on my shoulder.
“The kids up for school?”
I unclasp my locket necklace and slide my wedding rings onto it before putting it on.
They may not be on my finger, but I’ll wear them next to my heart along with my daughter.
“Marcus just left for work, and Charlotte made breakfast for you. She went a little overboard with the scrambled eggs. Used the entire carton.”
Fallon moves off the bed, and I can’t stop from ogling him in all his gorgeously naked glory when he stretches his arms overhead and yawns. Good god, that man’s body gives me palpitations.
“I’ll probably scarf down the entire plate. I’m starving.” He smacks my ass on his way to the bathroom. “Xander is taking you and Jay to the airport.”
I know when to pick my battles, and if Fallon is one thing, it’s stubborn. Walking to the bathroom door, I lean against the frame. “You’re not coming?” I thought that he would be riding with us.
He spits out toothpaste and rinses the brush. “The next few days are about you and Jay and Elizabeth Ann.”
My brow puckers. “I don’t see why that would prevent you from driving to the airport with us.”
Fallon comes to stand in front of me and tucks a flyaway strand of hair behind my ear. “He needs this time with you. Besides, I’ve got some important business to attend to.”
He slips past me and shucks on the pair of jeans he left draped over the chair.
“I thought the contract stuff was done.”
“Ring shopping, baby,” he says, kissing me on the way out of the bedroom.
I chase after him. “Don’t you dare get me anything extravagant.”
He confirms my suspicion when he just laughs.
“Good morning.”
“You do exist and weren’t just a figment of my imagination,” I say to Xander when he opens the back passenger-side door of the Land Rover for me to get in.
He smiles and hands me a to-go cup of coffee and a paper bag I know must’ve come from Ruby’s Diner because I can smell the cinnamon scone.
“You are officially my favorite person.”
Xander laughs. “I wish I could take the credit, but I just do as I’m told. I got it,” he tells Fallon and offloads my suitcase and shoulder bag from him.
Fallon leans in, and I grip the front of his shirt, hauling him in for a kiss. “Thank you.”
Big, grand gestures aren’t important to me.
It’s the little things that I appreciate the most. Like a wildflower picked from a field instead of a bouquet of expensive roses.
Or loading the dishwasher and putting the clothes into the dryer without me asking.
Or remembering what my favorite breakfast items are from Ruby’s.
Fallon shows me in so many different ways how much he loves me without ever having to say the words.
“Call me when you land.”
A sudden pang hits me because I already miss him, even though he’s standing right here. This will be the first time we’ve been apart for more than a day since we got back from Italy.
“I will.”
“Love you.” The kiss Fallon gifts me makes me weak in the knees.
“Love you more,” I tell him.
A goofy smile lights his face, one I’ve never seen before. I put it to memory so I can dream about it tonight when I go to sleep.
The trunk closes, and Xander slides into the driver’s seat. “No traffic delays on I-40 to RDU. We should be there in an hour.”
“Take care of my girl,” Fallon says, and it’s my turn with the goofy smile.
After one last kiss, he shuts the door. Our palms touch on either side of the glass, then he steps back when Xander pulls out of the driveway. Turning in my seat, I look out the back windshield until Fallon disappears from view.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Xander says.
My thumb rubs over my ring finger, but there’s nothing there now, the habit of twirling my wedding rings a subconscious one.
“Thank you. I’m still a little shell-shocked. I never thought I’d get married again.” Or fall in love again. “And you’re coming to the wedding.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles.
The dreaded ma’am. A staple of Southern decorum, but something that makes me feel old when I’m addressed that way. “All my friends call me Elizabeth. Fallon said you were ex-military?” I ask, wanting to get to know him better.
“Yes.”
I wait for him to say more, like what branch of the military or how many tours he served.
When he doesn’t offer anything else, I don’t pester him with any more questions.
I don’t know what his experience was like or what conflicts he saw.
The brutality of war, the demons a lot of servicemen return home with, can scar them in unimaginable ways.
PTSD. Physical and emotional trauma. Debilitating injuries.
So I respect the boundary he just placed and leave it be.
Taking the scone out of the bag, I nibble on it and drink my coffee while I gaze out the window.
“Seattle is a great town. I’ve been there a few times.”
“It’s where my dau—” My phone chimes, alerting me to a text message. “Sorry,” I apologize, putting my scone back in the bag and fishing out my phone.
Julien: Wanted to wish you a safe trip.
After the blowup at the cookout, Julien walked on eggshells around me for a few days before I got fed up with it.
I wasn’t angry with him or Jayson or Fallon…
or even Ryder. I was more hurt that their good intentions, once again, took away my right to decide.
Yes, I was upset, but I got over it. It wasn’t worth the wasted energy over something that transpired twenty-some years ago.
Me: Thanks. Do me a favor. Check on Fallon while I’m gone. Make sure the kids are behaving and not taking advantage.
Knowing Charlotte and her persuasive ways, I’m terrified that I’ll come home to some fancy sports car sitting in the driveway that she got Fallon to buy her.
Julien: Is he on babysitting duty? laughing emoji
I chew on my thumbnail, wondering how to ease into the topic of Fallon and me. I want to tell him about the engagement, but that kind of news isn’t something you blurt out, then hang up and hop on a plane.
Me: He lives there, so not exactly babysitting.
Dots bounce. Bounce some more. I almost drop the phone when it rings.
“You asked him to move in?” Julien says before I can say hi.
“He never really left.”
It’s weird how it doesn’t feel weird that Fallon has practically been living with us since he came back with me. As soon as he walked through the front door, it was like he always belonged there.
There’s a scuffling noise on the other end, then the sound of a door closing. “E and I were hoping things were heading in that direction. I’m happy for you, Liz.”
Xander turns onto Fallen Brook Drive. I called Jayson this morning to let him know I’d be picking him up.
“We’re almost at the house. Talk more when we get back.”
“Hey, Liz?”
Silence.
“Yeah?”
More silence.
“Nothing. Tell Elizabeth Ann that her uncles love her very much.”
I immediately choke up. “I will.”
Tucking my phone back inside my bag, I sit forward.
“It’s the house on the right at the end of the cul-de-sac.
” Xander pulls into the driveway behind Jayson’s rental.
“Be right back,” I say and get out before he has a chance to open my door for me.
As soon as I get to the walkway, I stop and look up when the branches on the oak tree shake.
Coming closer, I spot the sole of a tennis shoe. “Jayson?”
A familiar chuckle floats down through the foliage. “Hey, Princess.”
The nickname hits like a soft stone to the chest. I tilt back my head and shield my eyes against the morning sun as I squint upward. Perched on a thick branch, arms draped over his knees, Jayson grins down at me.
“You’re a little old to be hiding out from your mom,” I say with a teasing lilt in my voice.
I glance down at my sandals. Not exactly tree-climbing material, but the bark is worn in all the right places, and my hands remember every groove.
“Make a place,” I call up, already reaching for the lower limb.
I hoist myself up, climbing the tree with the kind of muscle memory that never quite fades.
Jayson shifts to make room for me to sit. “Still got it,” he says, eyes twinkling.
“Barely.” I pick a leaf from my hair and twirl it between my fingers. “What are you doing up here?”
He shrugs. “Thinking. Remembering.”
A breeze creates a gentle rustle around us, like the soft melody of nature’s wind chimes that echo the ballad of what we used to be. For a moment, we just sit there in the quiet, our legs swinging on either side of the branch.
“You know what I remembered the other day?” I ask him.
He lifts his chin for me to continue. “Our first date.” The fairy lights he strung up still flicker in my memory—tiny warm glows like suspended fireflies.
“I remember thinking no one had ever done something so perfect for me before. That night meant a lot to me.”
He doesn’t say anything at first. “You were my first everything, you know.”
I swallow hard and reach for his hand. “I’m glad you came back.”
There’s a momentary flicker of…something…that passes over his expression when our palms meet, and for one shattered second, I hold my breath, wondering if he noticed the absence of my wedding rings.
His callus-roughened fingers curl around mine. “Me too, Liz.”
Sitting here beside him, surrounded by the scent of oak and summer and the soft creak of aging wood, it’s impossible not to feel it—what we used to be and the love we shared that was so huge, it transformed my life.
“Ready to go see our daughter?”
“More than ready,” he replies.
He climbs down first, making sure I know the way but staying right below me in case I fall.
Just like he’s always done.