Epilogue #2
And since organising a party was hardly Nick’s forte, or mine, and Luther could do it in his sleep I left it to him to do most of the heavy lifting, especially around the decision about which of Nick and Davis’s old friends to invite.
A few had come around to us being together, but there were some who simply couldn’t seem to get their heads out of their arses, and that was fine.
Nick had no trouble cutting them loose. We didn’t need the negativity in our lives, and I was thankful to him for stepping up.
“We can always change our mind about saying or doing anything,” I told Nick, somewhat hoping he might agree. “We know. They don’t have to. Other than Luther, no one knows the real reason for the party.”
Nick turned my face to his and kissed me softly. “If that’s what you want, then sure, we can do that.”
I sighed and straddled his lap, looking him dead in the eye. “No. It’s not what I want. You’re what I want, and doing this today is what we both wanted when we planned it.”
Nick’s mouth turned up in a slow, sexy smile, grey eyes twinkling. “So, does that mean we’re still on?”
I cradled his face. “Yes, we’re still on.”
Nick waggled his brows. “They’re gonna freak out. Gazza, especially. You’re gonna be in so much trouble again.”
I couldn’t stop the smirk. “The best part about the whole thing.”
Nick snorted, then grew quiet, his gaze soft on mine, his voice rough as he said, “You know, if you decide you want more down the track, I’ll agree in a heartbeat. There’s nothing I won’t do for you, Mads. I just want you to be happy.”
“I know.” I traced his lips with my fingertip. “And thank you. But this feels good. It feels right. And that’s all we wanted, right?”
He drew a slow breath and smiled. “It’s way more than that. It’s everything.”
I pulled him to his feet and we kissed, long and slow, a gentle tangling of tongues that carried all our hopes and promises for the future.
When we finally drifted apart, Nick said, “Do you remember how the conversation started?”
I huffed out a laugh. “How could I forget? You’d just got back from a therapy appointment and out of the blue, you said, ‘How do you feel about marriage?’”
Nick laughed. “Fine. It wasn’t the smoothest segue, I’ll admit. But man, you should’ve seen your face. You went white as a ghost and almost had a heart attack.”
I gave him a shove. “Do you blame me? Luckily you clarified things.”
“God, I’m so sorry. That wasn’t actually a proposal.” Nick’s cheeks glowed. “What I meant to ask was whether marriage was something you’d always planned on if you met the right person? Something you wanted or imagined having as a kid?”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” I met his blush with one of my own.
“There’s no right or wrong answer, Mads. I suppose I’ve been thinking about it ever since we got back from Kettleworth. Not marriage, exactly, but how to express how fucking much I’m in love with you.”
I was still stunned, struggling to come up with the right response and watching Nick become increasingly nervous. In the end, I chose honesty. It’s what we’d promised for each other, after all.
“The answer isn’t a simple yes or no. In my twenties, the answer would’ve been yes. I imagined the whole white-picket thing, although I couldn’t say if it was because of the idea of marriage itself or just a way to stick it to society.”
Nick nodded. “I get that. And now?”
I studied his face, hoping he’d understand the next part of my answer.
“Now? It’s a lot more nuanced. For a long time, part of me still hoped for it, possibly because it was becoming increasingly obvious that the men I was dating didn’t, at least not with me.
I liked the idea of being public. Making a statement, I suppose.
And I think my controlling side liked the idea of a legal commitment. ”
Nick arched a brow. “Tie them down so it was harder to leave you?”
I didn’t smile because there was more than a grain of truth in his words. “Maybe, as embarrassing as that is. But I understand now that what I’d thought of as love back then was actually nothing like the real deal.”
Nick slid a finger under my chin and pulled me to him. “But you know now.”
I beamed. “I do. I really fucking do. And so when you ask me what I feel about marriage today, my answer is I don’t care either way.
This—” I waved a finger between us. “—this will always be enough for me no matter what we do around it. I love you with all my heart, Nick, and no piece of paper or set of wedding vows will change that. This is what’s important.
We are what’s important. I don’t need to marry you for that, but if it’s something you want or we decide to go down that track for the hell of it later, then that’s okay too.
” I cocked my head and narrowed my gaze.
“This is the part where you tell me why you asked the question in the first place.”
Colour returned to Nick’s cheeks and his gaze slid on and off my face before finally settling somewhere over my left shoulder.
“When Davis asked me to marry him, I had no clue it was coming. He had to talk me into it. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I’d never imagined it for myself, especially watching Mum and Dad. ”
“But you did marry,” I pointed out and Nick nodded, finally meeting my eyes.
“Because it was important to him. Davis wanted to marry and I wanted him. It was as simple as that. To be fair, going through the process was also a way for me to try to put some childhood demons to rest. But I didn’t need it for me, or rather for us, if I’m making any sense.”
I stroked his cheek. “You are.”
“I love you deeply, Mads. Mind, body, and soul. More than anything. I want you forever. I want us forever, and I know that’s not going to be easy.
It’s going to take work on both sides, but I’m here for it.
Every fucking day. I’m here for it. That’s the promise I’m making to you.
That’s the miracle in all this. And that’s the only commitment I’ll ever need from you.
That you’ll show up every day and be here for it too.
Just like me. And if we decide to get married for the hell of it down the track, then that’ll be okay too. ”
Nick gave an almost shy smile. “Does that mean we’re still on the same page?”
I pressed myself against him, feeling his body react to mine as it always did. “Yes, we’re still on the same page.”
His smile erupted like sunshine in my heart. “Excellent.” He took my hand. “Because in that case, we should really make it official.”
My smile slipped. “I thought we just agreed not to—”
Nick went down on one knee. “Madigan Delaney Church.” He grinned up at me, silencing my protest. “Will you promise not to marry me? Will you love and respect me? Will you keep talking about your feelings and forcing me to talk about mine? Will you rip me a new one when I need it and cut me some slack when I get it wrong, as I inevitably will? And will you promise to work together on our relationship, come hell or high water, for the rest of our lives?”
I stared down at him, this complicated, frustrating, big-hearted, wonderful man that I’d waited a lifetime to find. “Of course I bloody do.” I cradled his face in my hands. “As long as you promise to do the same?”
“Cross my heart.” And he did. Then he pulled me down to my knees, raised my left arm, and kissed the underside of my left bicep where a fresh tattoo was still healing. It read Sherlock, and when my arm was resting at my side, it sat next to my heart.
I did the same to him, pressing my lips to the name Watson he’d had tattooed in the same place. Then I covered his mouth with mine and kissed him until we ran out of breath, and I pulled away just enough to see those beautiful grey eyes locked on mine. “Together to the end, right?”
He smiled and kissed me again. “Together to the end.”
THE END