Chapter 55
Bear
After some more kissing, we agree to go back inside. We've committed enough exhibitionism to last us for a while.
I'm on cloud nine as I put all the dirt I dug back in its place, plant included. Pen takes the metal box back inside and I follow. In my head, we're walking on rainbows.
"We need to check everything else out," Pen says. "But I'm afraid my letter isn't any good, compared to yours."
I take the box out of her hands. I leave it on the kitchen island, take out her letter, and bring her to me. With her back to my front, we read it together.
Bear,
Can you believe you're getting out of high school with such a cool nickname? You're welcome, by the way.
Jokes aside, thank YOU. If I gave you that name, it's because you cared so much about my tears you wanted to avenge me.
How could I not be scared of what's to come? I won't have one of you around.
Okay, okay, I know I'm being silly. Maybe I'm deflecting with humor, because I don't know what else to do.
I don't know how to cope with the idea of not having you around.
The other day I read that evolution made friends happen so we can share our burdens and support each other through difficult times.
Are my burdens too much for you to help me carry?
I hope not, because I'm not the kind to spread my love like some people spread rumors in a high school corridor.
Anyway. All I want to say is thank you, and please please please don't forget me.
I never want to know what it's like to go a week without hearing your thoughts.
If you must tell me about your latest TV obsession, go right ahead.
If you want to complain again about the unfinished fanfic you found that hasn't been updated in three years, I'll pat your shoulder consolingly.
I promise to never make fun of you for the things you love, like I know you think other people would.
In fact, I'll encourage you! Just make me the one you vent to, and we'll be fine.
But don't let that fool you, I'll take as much of you as I can.
I know it's selfish to want so much of someone, but it's really your fault for being so darn generous and kind-hearted.
Who in their right mind would want to share someone so biased in one's favor?
But I promise I'll work on that. So when you find the love of your life and you marry her, you choose to keep me around too.
Yeah, I know that's not very generous of me, but at least it's honest.
I know I don't show you how much I care about you.
Not often enough, and not the right way, anyway.
I promise I'll try to do better. And I promise I won't hold you to that silly pact we made a few months ago.
You get to marry whoever you want. Even with my uncharitable heart, I know it was unfair to get that promise out of you.
So I'm not counting on it. You're free from this one burden.
I'll always be the friend you want, if I can.
Love, Pen.
She drew two interconnected hearts at the end. It has mine beating twice as fast.
"I'm sorry it wasn't as romantic as yours." She turns in my arms. "But it's too late for you to backtrack."
I smirk and back her up against the stone counter. I slide my hands on the cold surface behind her, palm against granite, so my arms keep her in place.
"So you're caging me now?" She asks, a gleam in her eyes.
"I have no interest in taking anything back." I raise an eyebrow. "Or did you forget I've been waiting for this for more than a decade?"
Her proximity is a promise. It reminds me I didn't imagine what we just admitted to each other. To know she loves me in this way, too, makes me feel like I could rule the world.
"And you held yourself to the marriage pact." She smiles as she kisses me. "Like you didn't feel it was a burden at all."
"Not a burden." I find her rings with my hand, and rub my thumb on them. "Just another way to promise I want you in my life more than anyone else."
"God, I'm one lucky woman." She tries to kiss me, but I pull back.
She gives me an offended look, but I ignore it.
"One more thing," I say. "Do you still have a tattoo gun?"
Confusion mars her brow. "What?"
"I need you to ink those two hearts you drew in your letter, somewhere on my skin."
"My pick?" she smirks.
I lean close and kiss her. Her hands travel around me until they find my ass.
I pull my lips to the side. "I'm too wise to let you pick. But we'll find a place."
She laughs. "Then I'll get them on myself, too."
"You don't have tattoos."
"This can be my first."
"Mhh." I smile. "We can make them a symbol of the way I trapped you by marrying you."
"You trapped me?"
"I found a way to get us to be as permanent as ink on skin. And if not for it, we wouldn't have kissed again, and gone through all of this."
"Maybe I trapped you," she says. "Maybe this was my plan all along. I know how loyal you are. You never would have divorced me. You would have never gone and dated someone else."
I laugh and kiss her again. "I never want to date someone else. I'll never divorce you, Pen. And I'll never sign a damn postnup. Your guilt wouldn't let you walk away with half my stuff."
Her smile turns playful. "Who's to say? It's easier to live with guilt when you're rich."
"Oh my God," I complain, and we laugh together.
But she pulls my left hand to my chest, and puts her left hand right next to it, so she can admire our rings all at the same time.
She gazes at me, adoration in her eyes.
"But I couldn't do that, if it meant I wouldn't have you." She tips her head back, asking me for a kiss, and I give it to her. "Marrying you is the best damn decision I ever made."
I hold her close. "I love you, Pen."
"I love you, too." She sighs. "Can you believe we can say that so freely now?"
"I can. We were meant to get here."
"Unbelievable as it is. Who would have known?"
I laugh. "I think everyone knew but us, Pen."
Her parents arrive soon after and tease us about the video. They don't comment on the way we stay close enough to touch. To them, we've been in love for a while, and there's nothing to make them realize that things have changed.
My wife finally loves me with all her heart.
I end up having to go into a virtual meeting with Selena and part of the Strike team.
I bring Pen with me to her room, so she can be a part of it.
After a quick greeting with everyone, she moves away from the frame and listens.
I sit up against the headboard, Pen's head is on my thigh, and I caress her hair as the meeting goes on.
She listens as Selena agrees that Pen doesn't need to be penalized, as she's not currently under contract with the Strike and is only a civilian.
She had not agreed to morality clauses the way I had.
Cora and Mariana share the sentiment, but Cora gives me a clear boundary— this cannot happen again.
I'm only happy to make the promise. They don't know that I checked while on the plane back here and now I've confirmed the details.
To avoid getting in trouble, all we have to do is remain inside the cabin.
As soon as I own the property, the reasonable expectation of privacy while in the wooden dome is enough— nevermind the large glass windows that leave little to the imagination.
If Pen were to feel like engaging in some risk again, we could make it happen, while remaining safe enough. We'll see how she feels after a while.
Pen sighs as I hang up. "You know, the video isn't even all that bad."
"Are you serious?"
She laughs. "Don't get me wrong. I'd rather it wasn't going around."
"You heard Evie. John from the club found out who leaked it.
They weren't only fired, but they had to sign an NDA and take down the video.
The Strike legal team is taking care of it, and that plus the fear of me going in with my own lawyers or John going in with his lawyers…
It's never going to be fully contained, but it's as contained as can be. "
"Eventually, people will find something else to be shocked about, and forget about this."
I'm still caressing her face, her hair. She stares at the ceiling.
A small smile tilts her lips. She looks beautiful and at peace.
My heart is calm and secure in its nook in my chest. This could be like every other day of our lives, if not for the way everything has changed today. Over the past few months.
"Does all of this feel strangely normal to you, too?" I ask.
"It shouldn't feel normal but, yeah. It is."
My lips curl. "How did I not realize what I felt before? Everyone kept telling me I was in love with you."
"When did you realize?"
"It didn't fully click until recently." I take a deep breath. "But I think I've loved you from the start."
Her head turns, and her smile grows. She gazes at me with clear eyes, taking in the details on my face like she's seeing me anew.
I trace one of her eyebrows with the pad of my finger. "When people told me I loved you, I used to get so angry. Of course I loved you. But I thought I loved you as a friend. Which I do. But looking back…"
The kind of affection that blooms in my chest isn't platonic, yet it's familiar. It expands and floods my torso, cascading into me with all the promises it still wants to make.
"I was afraid, Pen. I thought there was no way you'd love me like this. I thought if I admitted what I felt, you'd feel betrayed. I think that's why I had to work so hard at hiding it from myself."
"I thought you'd decided friendship with me wasn't enough," she admits in a soft voice. "That you watched your shows and saw the difference between what we had and what you truly wanted."
"Hey. No." I shake my head. "Come here."
I bring her to my lap. She sits between my legs, sideways, so we can look into each other's eyes. Her legs stick out and curl around my thigh. It's a knot made of Pen and me. The way we're interlocked gives a new meaning to those Celtic knots people use to signify love and connection.
"What we have is perfect to me," Pen says. "But I was convinced it would only be friendship, and that being friends with me would never be enough for you. That because of it you would always go back to finding the kind of love you and I have today— elsewhere."
"I've always wanted what we have. I've wanted the kind of love they write about for myself too and, guess what? I had it. I've had it this whole time. It's what I meant with my letter, right? I saw what we have on those shows. It's why I chose us every time."
"The sex is good, too." She smiles. "It adds a little something to what we have."
I laugh. "Yeah, it does. Especially the kind of friendship we have."
"Imagine. We could have added sex to it a decade ago."
"Could we have? I'm not so sure. Maybe it's the romantic in me, but I think we needed the past decade to make sense of it all."
She looks at me with a puzzled wrinkle on her brow.
I smile. "The thing is, when people told me I felt 'more than friendship' for you, I didn't get it.
Friendship is beautiful and worthwhile on its own.
I didn't think I needed anything else. But now that I know I'm in love with you, I understand.
It's because when you're in love, there are things you want to add to the friendship.
A certain type of intimacy. A physicality.
An understanding of what the bond means.
It's not that friendship isn't enough— it's plenty.
It's necessary. It's just that you need more with someone you love this much, this way. "
She sighs. Kisses my lips softly.
"If it weren't for our fears," I add, "would we have loved each other as friends so fiercely? And if we weren't so close as friends, would we have fallen in love like we did?"
"Maybe it's what we needed with each other," she says. "To go through all of this, to be ready to add this new layer to what we have."
"Maybe. What I know is that loving you is what I was meant to do," I whisper. "We found each other so young so I could love you all of your life. It's been so easy and difficult for the past twenty years. Can it just be easy for the rest of our lives?"
"It'll be easy between us for the rest of time."
I kiss her. "This is what I always wanted from the shows I watched, Penélope. For the couple to hold hands and walk away into the sunset together, facing life next to each other."
"Then I suppose we always had that," she says, and lays her head to rest over my heart.
Everything has changed, but one thing doesn't. Holding her in bed that night feels as easy as it ever has.