Epilogue
Mick
Six months later
H ome looks the same. The grass is freshly cut, thanks to the lawn service company I found. Jules argued she was more than capable of doing it herself, which, of course, she is. But she’s also not known for being an outdoors person, so it took little persuading to convince her to accept help. Hopefully, it can be my job again soon.
I stroll up the driveway, conscious that the occupants are probably watching through the front window. The beige brick is light and welcoming, unlike the heaviness of my parents’ heritage house. I pat my right trouser pocket, assure myself the package is still there and ring the bell.
The door swings open.
“Daddy!” Riley rushes at me with the speed of a greyhound, only to stop inches from my feet. “You’ve got flowers.”
“Yeah. They’re for your mum.”
She tilts her head. “Where’s mine? ”
This is the game we’ve been playing ever since Jules and I started ‘dating’. I hand her a smaller posy of miniature roses from behind my back. “These are for you.”
She sniffs them. “Nice.” She waves me in with the aplomb of a seventeen-year-old. “Mummy’s still in her room. Grandma told her to hurry.”
Zola barrels towards me with similar intensity to Riley’s greeting as I step through the door.
I hold up one hand. “Stop.”
Zola slides into my legs. I grimace at the scratch marks on the floorboards. Then again, what’s a few more? She’s all wiggly bum, rubbing her head against my black wool trousers. How I’ve missed this chaos. My parents’ house is so ordered and sterile you could eat off the floors.
I shuffle into the living area with Riley clinging to one side and Zola to the other. My heart pings around in my chest when Jules walks in wearing the sexiest red dress I’ve ever seen. It’s like she’s been poured into it. The front dips low, and it takes all my willpower not to follow the flawless line of flesh. Instead, I focus on her hair. The style is half up, half down, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. I swallow to stop myself from drooling. It seems that keeping my attention above her shoulders isn’t any safer than admiring her curves.
I hold out the bouquet. “For …” The word comes out garbled. I clear my throat. “For you.”
Jules smiles and my dick twitches in response. What’s wrong with me? I’m a grown man. My mother-in-law and daughter are in the room, for Christ’s sake. Jules takes the flowers and sashays to the kitchen sink. My gaze dips to her arse, then continues lower to her shapely calves. I glance away from the delectable sight. Lucia looks knowingly at me. Perfect. Sprung ogling my wife.
Jules arranges the roses in a vase and helps Riley do the same. I wander around the room. Everything’s still the same as when I left twelve months ago. Right down to the dog bed wedged next to the coffee table. Although, the almost completed outback jigsaw puzzle is a new addition.
“I’m ready.” Jules’ voice is breathy like she’s been running. Is she nervous too?
I wipe sweaty hands on the back of my trousers. “Great. And may I say, you look beautiful.” Jesus. I shake my head. May I? How old am I? Eighty?
“Thanks.” My knees buckle at the love on Jules’ face as she smiles with her lips, her eyes, her entire being. “You look pretty fine yourself.”
Her smile slips as she takes in my bare ring finger. I told her I put my wedding band into the jeweller last week for cleaning. Which is partly true. I almost blurt out the real reason I’ve removed it, but I restrain myself. Soon she’ll know why. I take the fact its absence bothers her as a good sign.
Riley steps between us, her expression solemn. “Make sure you’re home by eleven. But if you decide to stay out late, call Grandma so she doesn’t worry. And bring gifts.”
I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing. She’s so serious, it’s adorable. “I just gave you flowers.”
“Yeah. But come on, Daddy, we both know you can do better. If Mummy gets dinner, I want chocolates.”
Jules and I share a look. One that warms my heart and gives me confidence I’m going to get the answer I long for. “Okay, sweet pea. Chocolates it is.”
Muted lighting and sleek dark tones give the restaurant an expensive vibe. A quick scan of the options confirms it. Although I already knew we’d be spending a truckload of money tonight. I don’t care how much the meal costs. It’s a small price to pay if it helps get my wife back.
“A drink to start?” asks the server with a voice as crisp as her black-and-white uniform .
Jules closes the menu. “Mineral water for me, please.”
“Me too.” I tug at my collar. Even though I’m not wearing a tie, the material chafes around my neck. “I think we’re ready to order. Jules?”
“Yeah. I’ll have the steak, medium rare, and a side of mashed potato.” She tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear, drawing my attention to her blood-red nails. She only paints them for special occasions. Does she suspect my intentions?
“You, sir?” asks the server.
“The same, thanks. But well done. And some garlic bread beforehand.”
She collects our menus and points at the separate drinks one. “Do you want to select the wine now or later? We have some excellent pairings for the filet mignon.”
I’m sure they do. I glance at Jules. She shakes her head, her cheeks turning the same colour as her nails. “No. Just the mineral water, thanks.”
The server hesitates before scooping up the menu and backing away with quiet efficiency.
I cup Jules’ chin. “Hey. There’s nothing wrong with ordering water.”
“I know. But it feels weird not to drink because the steak would be amazing with a bottle of red.”
“It’ll taste perfectly fine without alcohol.”
Jules fiddles with the cutlery, her cheeks still rosy. “AA’s helping a lot. It’s getting easier, but some days are harder. You know?” She peers at me through long, black lashes. “Alcohol’s always been the crutch to get me through stuff.”
I’m so proud of Jules for tackling her problem head-on. She’s been quicker than me to face her demons. I cover her left hand with mine. “There’s no need for a crutch tonight. It’s just you and me.”
She flicks the napkin onto her lap, her fingers trembling. “Which is why I need it. ”
The server interrupts with the drinks. “You certain you don’t want anything else?”
I shake my head. She purses her lips and walks away. Is she miffed because we didn’t order wine?
I sip my water. Jules does the same. Awkwardness invades what should be a romantic rendezvous. I can’t think of a single line to open with. My brain’s disappeared on a minibreak when I need it the most.
“How’s Riley?” My shoulders sag. This is ridiculous.
Jules chuckles. “You saw her twenty minutes ago.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“Oh, Mick. It’s just us. You don’t need to be nervous. We’ve gone out many times these last six months.” She lifts my hand to her lips. Her touch is fleeting but zips all the way to my groin.
Yes, we have. But so much is riding on this date. Fear strangles my throat. What if she says no? I slide off my seat. I can’t do this. “Sorry. I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be back in a moment.”
I scurry away like the coward I am. The toilets are fancy, with antique gold mirrors and floor-to-ceiling white marble. Most importantly, they’re empty. I run the cold tap. Splash water on my face.
The door pushes open. “Mick?”
“Jules, what are you doing in here?”
“Something’s troubling you.”
I grip the edges of the sink and watch her through the reflection in the mirror. She’s elegant, yet earthy, and so vivacious that I question why she would ever wish for her boring accountant husband back.
Don’t let fear stop you. That’s what the shrink keeps telling me. “I want you to be my wife again.”
Her pouty red lips form an ‘O’.
I had an entire speech prepared but fuck it. I turn and crush my mouth to hers. Jules hooks her leg around mine, bringing our hips flush. I grind my erection—which seems totally inappropriate under the circumstances—against her. We’re in a men’s washroom in our finery and I’ve never wanted my wife more.
A rush of air and a muffled, “For Christ’s sake, this is a bathroom” has us springing apart.
“Sorry,” I say to the slack-jawed grey-haired dude standing in the doorway.
Jules is quick to recover. “Oops. We thought this was the parents’ room.” With her head held high, she takes my hand and leads me back into the restaurant.
We slide into our seats where our garlic bread is waiting.
“That was hot.” Jules sniggers. “I think we should add sex in a public toilet to our bucket list.”
I burst out laughing. A proper laugh all the way to my belly. That sets Jules off and we both double over as if someone’s tickling us.
“Excuse me, is everything alright over here?” asks the ma?tre d with a pinched expression.
“Yeah.” I tug at my collar. “Thanks. Just a funny story.”
She glances at the table. “Are you waiting for wine?”
“No. We’re drinking water.” I’d never noticed before how expected it is to have alcohol with your meal. How normalised society has made it.
She leaves us to it, but the look on her face says ‘I’m watching you’. The guy from the bathroom appears, gives me the side eye and continues to the front of the restaurant. He’d better not be raising a complaint.
My sides hurt from the unexpected exercise. Jules’ cheeks are flushed and amber lights dance in her eyes. The reality of why we’re on this date returns. Jules’ reaction in the bathroom was encouraging. Time to do this right. I slide out of my chair, withdraw the package from my pocket and drop to one knee.
“Mick?” Jules gasps, her gaze skittering around the restaurant. A few people have shifted their attention towards us, and there’s a growing buzz in the room.
I balance the box on my palm. “You are the love of my life, Jules. I can’t imagine not having you beside me. Will you marry me? Again.”
She touches the container, her fingers trembling. Hell, mine are shaking even more. “Yes.”
Couples at the two tables closest to us clap and raise their glasses. I give them a wave, but my focus is firmly planted on my wife. The pressure in my chest, the ache that I’ve endured since Jules threw me out of the hospital room, eases and for the first time in months, I breathe without pain.
I hope she’s happy with the changes I made to her engagement ring. Not asking for her permission was a risky move, but I sensed the need for a new beginning. I open the box. Jules gasps, and her gaze flashes to mine.
Nervous energy bubbles up from my stomach like a soft drink spilling from a bottle. “I had the ruby from your original ring set in a platinum band and diamonds encrusted around it.”
Her throat bobs and her mouth moves, but all that comes out is a squeak. She’s lost for words. A first for my wife. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”
Thank Christ. I slip the ring onto her finger. The gem sparkles in the candlelight. She leans closer until her breath mingles with mine. Our lips touch, and I inhale her essence. The kiss deepens, marking a renewal of vows. A promise to do better. A uniting of our fears, pain and hopes for the future.
We pull apart and Jules flexes her hand. “I’ve felt naked without my rings.” She tilts her head. “There’s still one more to go.”
“That, there is.”
She squeals when I reveal the wedding band. It’s the original one but with the infinity symbol engraved into the platinum. “Oh, my. That’s stunning.”
My hands shake harder than a tree branch in a blustery wind as I slip the ring onto her finger. Which is how my life has been for the last twelve months. Trapped in a storm of my own making. Searching for sanctuary. Now I’ve found it, reclaimed it, I’m never letting go.
The wedding band nestles alongside the engagement ring. A perfect fit. “I promise to love, cherish and not keep secrets from you for the rest of my life.” I wink. “Unless they are a pleasant surprise that you won’t mind.”
I pull my wedding band out of my pocket and hand it to Jules. It’s identical to hers, with the same infinity symbol engraved into the band. “Would you?”
“Absolutely.” Jules touches the ring to her lips, then slides it onto its rightful place. “I promise to love, cherish and kick your arse every time I think you’re being a closed-off dick for the rest of my life.”
I choke on a chuckle. It’s exactly what I’d expect her to say. The ink on my arm tingles, just like Davo said his tattoo used to when good things happened. I fall back on my chair, groaning as my knee creaks. “Shall we organise a renewal of vows?”
Jules admires her hand. Her nail polish is a perfect match for the ruby, as is the infinity symbol peeking out from her wrist. A tear slips down her cheek. “The promises we’ve reaffirmed tonight mean more to me than any vows made in front of others. I don’t need to do it again.” She slides off her seat and plonks herself on my lap.
In my periphery, I notice the ma?tre d staring in our direction with laser-like intensity. If it wasn’t for the teasing smile on her lips, I’d think she was on the verge of calling security.
Jules nuzzles my cheek. “Thanks for not giving up on us.”
I wrap my arms around her and breathe in the familiar scent of home. Of love. “Thank you for waiting for me.”