Chapter 31 #2
“And I’ve been traveling back ever since, and every mile of it, I was terrified you’d change your mind.
That you’d find someone else. That I’d ruined the only real thing I’ve ever had.
” He took another step closer, his eyes pleading.
“Look, I’m not asking you to forget what I did.
I’m not even asking you to forgive it. I just..
. I needed to see your face once more. To let you know, leaving you was the worst mistake of my life.
That not a day has gone by that it hasn’t eaten me alive. ”
Cecilia stared at him, this man who’d taught her to fight for herself, to want more, to love without restraint.
This man who’d left her anyway.
“I waited,” she cried out, and tears mixed with feral rivulets on her face. “I waited for you!”
“I know.”
“I tore up the annulment with my bare hands—”
“I—”
“For weeks, everyone told me I was a fool!”
His eyes squeezed shut, and he ducked his head, “I don’t deserve it, do I. Any of it. I don’t deserve you, Cecilia. I’m sorry for coming, I should just—”
She closed the distance between them immediately and kissed him.
For a heartbeat, he went rigid with shock. Then his arms came around her, crushing her against him with a desperate strength that she oh so dearly missed, and he was kissing her back like a drowning man who’d finally found air.
When they broke apart, both gasping, she whispered against his mouth, “If you ever leave me again, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth.”
His hands framed her face, and his thumbs brushed at tears she hadn’t realized were falling, as his own rolled fiercely down his cheeks.
“I swear to you, Cecilia. I swear on everything I am. For so long, I’ve been running, afraid to call any place my home.
But my home isn’t a place—it’s a person.
Home is wherever you are. I’m only sorry it took me so long to realize that. ”
She searched his eyes but found nothing but raw honesty. “Cass, you know I forgive you.”
The sound he made was halfway to a sob. “Thank you. God, thank you.”
“But you have to promise me something.”
“Anything,” he said desperately.
“Next time you are terrified, next time you think you don’t belong, next time you want to run—” Her voice shook. “Talk to me first. Promise me that.”
“I promise.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you. Devil take it, I should have told you before I left. I should have said it every day from when I realized it was the truth. I love you, Cece. You are the only thing this foolish boy has ever done right.”
“I love you too,” she whispered. “Even when you still behave like that foolish boy.”
His laugh was watery. “Especially then, I hope.”
“Especially then.”
They stood there in the downpour, holding each other, neither willing to let go first. Finally, Cassian pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.
“There’s a ship,” he said carefully. “Leaving in a few hours. I’d booked passage to Crete. If I could gather the courage to ask you to come with me. Our honeymoon, if you’ll... if you’ll have me.”
Cecilia smiled through her tears. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“We go back to the library first.”
Confusion flared in his eyes. “The ship—”
“Can wait.” She took his hand, already pulling him back toward the building. “I’ve waited two months. The ship can wait two hours.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “Cecilia—”
“Another condition. Don’t argue with your wife.”
They stumbled through the pelting rain together, laughing and crying and soaked to the bone. The moment they were inside, Cassian kicked the door shut and turned the bolt.
He regarded the newly renovated space with pride for a moment. “In two months, you have achieved more than I could have in a year…”
Then, he turned his gaze toward Cecilia. She saw hunger, yes, but more than that—she saw wonder. Devotion. Love…
Crossing to her slowly, he asked, “Are you certain, sweetheart?”
In answer, she reached for him, pulling him down into a kiss that held two months of loneliness and longing and love that refused to die.
His hands shook as he worked at her buttons. She tugged at his cravat, his waistcoat, pushing wet fabric aside until she could press her palms against bare skin. He groaned at the contact.
“I’ve dreamt about this,” he breathed raggedly against her throat. “Every night. The way you feel. The sounds you make. The way you look at me after, like I’m—”
“Like you’re everything,” she panted. “Because you are to me.”
They came together on the old settee, a tangle of wet clothes and seeking hands and whispered promises. An hour later, as they lay wrapped in each other, Cecilia traced patterns on his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath her palm.
“The orphans are going to be scandalized,” she murmured, “finding the library closed with no warning. I’ll have Andrews write to Pru to keep it open.”
“They’ll survive the scandal.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Though we should probably leave soon.”
“In a moment.”
“In a moment,” he whispered.
But they stayed there longer than a moment, neither ready to move. The rain had slowly softened to a gentle patter. The light that broke through the clouds had turned golden.
Eventually, Cecilia tilted her head back to look at him. “Tell me about Crete.”
So he did. He regaled her with stories of white buildings clinging to cliffsides, about water so blue it hurt to look at, about olive groves and ancient ruins and all the places he wanted to show her. His voice was excited, full of plans and promises.
She believed him.
And for the first time in two months, Cecilia felt like she could breathe again.