Epilogue
EPILOGUE
DARCY
I finish taping the top of the last remaining box in my room. I’m leaving my bed because I don’t need it. And the dresser for the same reason. But other than that, the room is officially empty.
When Ridge first asked me to move in, I wasn’t certain that I could pull it off since I have finals coming up. But I didn’t want to say no, either. Of course, when I expressed my concerns, he offered to handle the entire thing. Fifteen minutes later, a moving company was booked, and I didn’t have to lift a finger. Except I asked them not to move my plants. I insisted on doing that on my own.
The box in my hands contains the last three succulents that were on my windowsill. And that’s the end of that. I will miss living with Lyric. But when I brought it up to her, she all but kicked me out, insisting that I chase my happiness. I couldn’t really argue with her.
I pull the door to my room shut and walk into the living room. Lyric is by the door, her hands twisted together in front of her. She’s a nervous fidgeter.
“Stop acting like you’re never going to see me again,” she says, clearly seeing the tears brimming in my eyes.
“I know.” I sigh. “You know I just don’t like change. Even the good ones.”
“I know, you poor thing. I can’t imagine how hard your life is, what with your loving, doting boyfriend and your kickass best friend,” she says, mocking me. “You’re so brave.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically, really twisting the mockery blade.
“You’re such a bitch.” I laugh. I set the box down and wrap my arms around her.
“I know,” she says, returning my hug. “I’m the absolute worst.”
I get into my car, strap the plant box in the seat belt next to me, and turn the key over. I put the car into drive and pull out onto the road, heading to Ridge’s house. My house. Our house.
It still sounds so wild to me when I think about it. Like wow. How the hell did I bag that absolute fox of a man? Sometimes I can’t believe it.
I look down at the small wrist tattoo he gave me last week, the skin there almost healed. He did a beautiful job with the delicate lines of the design. When I told him I wanted to get a small tattoo of a rosebud there, he thought it was perfect. The thin black lines and soft shading are really beautiful.
Now there are about a dozen more I want, and Ridge has lovingly agreed to supply my new addiction. He said they’d be free but that the gratuity was not included and that he would be happy to accept my appreciation in the form of sexual favors. So basically, it’s a win-win for me.
When I pull into my driveway, Ridge is on the front porch, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his face.
God, I love that man. The idea of real love used to scare the hell out of me. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the secret is about being loved by the right person, about finding the right person to love. And I’ve found that in Ridge.
“Hey, you,” he says as I step onto the porch.
“Hi.” I lift onto my toes to kiss him on his perfect mouth. For the record, I’ve changed my mind about perfection. Because he’s absolutely perfect and no one can convince me otherwise.
I look into his eyes, my smile so big I can feel it in the corners of my eyes.
“What are you thinking behind that grin?” he asks, combing his fingers through my hair.
“I was just looking up here at you on the porch and thinking about how sexy you are,” I say.
“Oh yeah?” He bites his bottom lip.
“Mm-hmm.” I sigh. “And I was thinking I’m a very lucky woman.”
He tilts his head. “You are?”
“Oh yeah.” I inhale deeply. “And I was thinking I love you.”
“Mmm,” he groans. “I love you, too, honey,” he whispers against the shell of my ear.
I take comfort in knowing I trust him and believe him when he tells me that. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life basking in the glow of his love, of our love. And in return for worshipping me, all I want to do is worship him, too.
Ridge lowers his mouth to mine and kisses my softly. He presses his forehead to mine, inhaling deeply.
“Welcome home,” he whispers.
I am home. Finally.