15. Ivy
fifteen
Ivy
The Next Morning
Fear claws at me like a slice across my gut.
It worsens every waking day.
Mornings like this are going to end forever if Cillian doesn’t see things my way.
Sunlight filters through the blinds, casting long, warm stripes across the bed where he and I lie tangled in the sheets after making love this morning. He stirs beside me, his arm tightening around my waist as he plants a soft kiss on my shoulder. The digital clock on the nightstand blinks 7:30 a.m., a blatant reminder of the real world waiting outside.
There’s only two weeks left until my parents return. Two weeks until the hammer comes down. Two weeks to make our relationship permanent. Two weeks will change the trajectory of my entire life.
“Whoops,” he mumbles against my skin, his voice thick with satisfaction. “I fell back asleep.”
“I like cuddling after sex.” My mind is a chaotic mess with thoughts racing faster than my heartbeats. “We only have a few more of these mornings left. I want to cherish them.”
“Sweet Ivy, we have millions of these mornings left.” Cillian shifts, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me. His hazel eyes are soft with affection but clouded with thoughts of his looming workday. He kisses my shoulder again. “It’s time for me to jump in the shower. Big day ahead.”
Cillian slides out of bed, his muscular frame unfolding as he strides toward the shower. He moves with a fluid grace. I blatantly ogle the defined lines of his back down to his sculpted ass.
Lately, I find myself desperately cataloging every detail about Cillian, trying to etch every moment we have into my memory. Last night we were supposed to talk about getting married, but we fucked all night instead .
I’m not complaining, but a sense of urgency feels like it’s choking me. Somehow, it hasn’t seemed to register with him.
“Cillian, wait.” My voice is sharper than I intend.
He pauses, then turns with towel in hand. “What’s up?”
“We didn’t talk about Vegas.” I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest. “About…everything.”
Cillian’s expression tightens and the air between us charges with unsaid words. “Ivy…I, uh, thought we agreed to give it a week.”
“It has been a week. If you don’t want to marry me, say it,“ I blurt out, the fear of losing him twists my stomach.
He sighs and returns to the bed and sits. His eyes search mine. “Ivy, that’s not fair. It’s not about wanting to marry you. Of course I do. It’s about making sure we’re both ready for something that big. This—us—it’s been fast. Amazing, but fast.”
”I know it’s been fast,” I shoot back, feeling desperate and frustrated. “Don’t you get it? If we wait, everything could fall apart. My parents will be back in two weeks. What if they force me back into the life I had before? I couldn’t bear it.”
Cillian rubs his temples, clearly struggling to keep his composure. “We cannot base this decision on fear. Or your parents. Marriage is a huge step. It’s not a quick fix.”
“Are you looking for reasons to avoid it? Are you embarrassed by me? Is this just a game to you?” The words tumble out before I can stop them, each one laced with more accusation than I intend.
He winces, hurt.
God, I sound like an immature teenager. Because I am.
Cillian’s voice softens. “Ivy, I’m not embarrassed. This is not a game. Part of me would like nothing more than to throw caution to the wind. We’re clearly compatible, you’ve been living here for nearly two months.”
“Then why don’t we just go for it?” I feel tears sting the backs of my eyes.
He brushes my hair back with his fingers. “Because there are other people to consider. We haven’t met each other’s families yet and family is, clearly, a huge part of who we both are.” He presses his finger to my lips when I try to interrupt. “Let me finish. We owe our parents an introduction before springing such big news on them, but it’s not the only reason. You’re committed to Stanford this year—it’s your chance to explore who you are outside of your family’s expectations. Outside of me. You’ll grow tremendously as a person.” He removes his finger. “I don’t want to hold you back. You might find new passions and meet new people. I love you and we’ll see each other as much as possible, but I’d never want you to rush into such a big commitment. I want you to choose me with no doubts. If you still feel the same next year, maybe you can transfer to University of Washington or, who knows, we’ll figure it out.”
“So, you don’t want us to be exclusive.” I’m anguished and can’t stop a tear from falling. “You’re saying, ‘go out there and fuck other people.’”
Cillian’s jaw clenches, and he takes a breath before speaking. “What the hell? Ivy, no . I love you. Why would you think I’d send you off to fuck someone else?”
“I don’t know. Maybe so you can? You’ve been with a lot of women. Maybe I’m not enough.” Then the truth slips from my lips before I can catch it. “You’re my first , Cillian—my first everything .”
The words hang between us. I’ve revealed one of my secrets.
Shit. Should I go ahead and reveal it all?
Cillian pauses, his expression tightens with shock. “Jesus. What. The. Fuck ? Other women? And, correct me if I’m wrong, but are you saying you were a virgin the night I met you at Kells? Why wouldn’t you have told me, Ivy?” He runs a hand through his hair, visibly angry but conflicted. “The first time you have sex is not some small detail you omit to your partner. Without being crass, my cock isn’t small. I could’ve really hurt you.”
“Okay. Fine. Yes . I was a virgin . I kept it to myself because I didn’t know I’d end up falling in love with you. As far as hurting me, I wasn’t worried. I’ve been using toys for years, I just hadn’t… um .” My voice is shaky and intense. Too much. Taking a calming breath, I shake my head sadly. “I’m being defensive and you’re right. I’ll take accountability. It was wrong not to tell you. At the time, I couldn’t have predicted how important you’d become to me.” I grip his wrist. “I wanted it. I wanted you. And, baby, my first time was everything I could have ever dreamed of. More .”
“I’m glad to hear. I wish I could have shared the experience with you,” Cillian snarks, then softens. His gaze flickers with concern. “ Please don’t lie to me again. If we’re going to be in a committed relationship—which is what I want, by the way—we need to be honest with each other, no matter what. Secrets don’t fade away. They grow. And I want us—this,” he gestures between us, “to be built on trust. Nothing you can tell me will make me love you less.”
I feel his words press on my chest. It’s time. “I promise no more secrets. There’s actually something else I want to tell you, it’s no big deal.” My voice trembles slightly, I know the gravity of what I’m about to say.
“Can we continue talking while I get ready? I’m running behind, but we’re not done talking and this is important.” Cillian gets up and strides toward the bathroom. He flicks on the faucet and the sound of cascading water fills the space between us .
Following close behind, I feel the steamy heat wrap around me like a thick blanket. We step into the shower and he continues as he soaps himself up. “I’d like to address what you tossed at me before you dropped the virgin bomb and finish up the discussion about Vegas. First, I have no goddamn interest in fucking any other woman and if you have any doubt in your mind about my intentions toward you, we’re not ready for marriage yet.”
“ Cillian …” I clutch his elbows.
He gently grips my face between his palms. “Let me finish. Second, I consider us to be exclusive, I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear. Third. I love you. So goddamn much being without you scares the fuck out of me. I would like nothing more for us to spend our lives together but, the truth is, we’re faced with an upcoming separation, whether we like it or not. All we can do, for now, is focus on growing as a couple and figuring out how often we can see each other while you’re at school. Assuming we still feel this strongly in a few months and our families are on board, I’m all in.”
“I’m worried. My dad is strict, I don’t think he’s going to approve. Getting married would help us bypass at least one obstacle.” The edges of my vision blur with unshed tears. I’m going to tell him. It’s on the tip of my tongue…
He pauses, the water streams down his shoulders onto me. “Baby, isn’t part of your journey to stand up for yourself and make your own decisions? Going to Stanford, becoming independent—that’s part of it, right? Didn’t you tell me it’s what your grief therapist suggested?”
I press against his gorgeous body, my heart both heavy and hopeful. “Yes, but I’m scared. You haven’t met my dad. Ever since my brother died he’s pinned all of his expectations on me and he has a funny way of making me want to gain his approval. I don’t want to let him down and I don’t want to lose you. This feels impossible. I want you to be part of my life so badly.”
“You won’t lose me, Ivy.” Cillian’s eyes lock on mine with a sincerity that takes my breath away. “We’ll tackle this as a couple, one step at a time. We’ll make it through by understanding and supporting each other Not by rushing into marriage as a means to avoid the hard conversations. When we get married, I want it to be a momentous occasion celebrated by everyone who loves us.”
Emotions so complex I can’t comprehend them overwhelm me. I can’t ever remember having a conversation this rational about something so important. Then why can’t you just tell him the whole truth?
“I know you’re right. It’s hard and I’m sorry for trying to rush you into marrying me. I trust you’re committed to me and I’m committed to you. I guess it feels like everything’s closing in on me and I got panicky.” My entire body aches with love for this man who is so wise. So understanding.
We get out of the shower and he hands me my towel. We dry off and he kisses my forehead gently. “Apology accepted. We’ll figure it out. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not letting anyone take you away from me. But let’s do it with integrity. Okay?”
“Okay.” Even as I say it, a part of me dies knowing I’m still being duplicitous by keeping my real age from him.
It’s time .
No, long past time.
I return to bed and watch Cillian as he finishes getting dressed. His movements are unhurried, though now he’s way behind schedule. Even though I’ve disappointed him and put pressure on our relationship, he’s taking his time to make sure I’m okay. My feelings are more important to him than anything else— gah . Each glance he throws over his shoulder is filled with such warmth. It bridges the gap of our earlier tension.
He needs to go to work. I’ll tell him tonight.
“See you later?” He approaches the bed, buttoning his flannel.
“Absolutely,” I manage a smile despite the forthcoming confession about my age. “I love you, baby. I really, really love you.”
He leans down and plants a sweet kiss on my lips. “I love you too. We’ll figure this out. I promise.”
Cillian strides out of the bedroom and I hear the door to the elevator close behind him with a loud click. The loft immediately feels emptier. I linger in bed for a moment longer, clutching the sheets we messed up all night. Feeling comfort in the lingering scent of him.
The scent of us .
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. It must be Cillian. Excitedly, I reach for it and see the screen light up with twenty missed notifications from when I was in quiet mode. Fifteen missed calls. Five texts. Starting at nine last night.
My entire body freezes.
My father . He’s home. One week early, without warning.
9:45 pm Dad: Where are you, Ivy?
11:15 pm Dad: I know you’re not at Emma’s. It’s critical you come home now.
12:30 am Dad : Ivy. Stop the bullshit. Respond immediately .
2:45 am Dad: This is unacceptable. Get your ass home now. You’re putting us through undue stress. We need to know you’re safe.
8:00 am Dad: If I don’t hear from you by 9 am, I’m involving the authorities.
The last one, time-stamped minutes ago, sends a cold shiver down my spine.
Panic clenches my gut as I scramble out of bed and throw on some clothes. I’m out the door in minutes, the looming threat of my father’s control spurs my every step. Before I get in the car, I text Cillian.
Me: My parents returned early. I’ll try to call later.
On my way home, as the city rushes by, a heavy dread settles over me.
I’m not ready for this. Today, I have to confront everything I’ve been running from.
The hourglass has run out.