Chapter 27
Wizard
One Month Later
Three weekends. That’s what this is now, which still feels a little bit unreal every time I think about it. Before Esme came back to Hart, I didn’t take weekends off, or even nights. There was always something that needed doing, something that could go wrong if I wasn’t paying attention.
And seeing as I didn’t have much of a life then it wasn’t like I was making a sacrifice.
Now I’m riding out to the cabin again with her arms wrapped around me, her helmet pressed between my shoulders, and instead of feeling like I’m leaving something behind, it feels like I’m finally going somewhere I’m supposed to be.
Okay, I’m also upgrading the security system while we’re out here, but that’s not the sole reason for the trip. But I might have hinted that it was so I could persuade Esme to come and keep me company.
The road narrows as we turn off toward the woods, the pavement giving way to gravel.
I ease off the throttle, not because I have to, but because I don’t want to rush this part.
The trees close in on either side, tall and thick, branches cutting the late afternoon light into strips that flicker over the ground.
Esme shifts behind me, leaning with me like she trusts me to keep us safe.
That still hits me every time.
Trust.
After years of riding solo, to feel responsible for another life and to have someone who trusts me implicitly is… I don’t know… I can’t even begin to explain it.
We pull up in front of the cabin and I cut the engine. The quiet settles in fast, thick and familiar. We’re miles from anywhere here, away from the city, away from the clubhouse. Just the wind in the trees, birdsong, and the faint ticking of the bike cooling down.
Esme lets go of me slowly before climbing off. She pulls her helmet free and shakes her hair out, her cheeks flushed from the ride, her eyes a little brighter than they were when we left Hart.
She’s been like that more and more.
After the confrontation with James, it’s like she’s finding her footing again instead of bracing for the next hit. I know their relationship was over long before his final betrayal, but some things linger.
I hadn’t wanted to press charges, but after the cops saw that my parents had cameras, they made a formal request for the footage, and it was pretty damning.
Esme and I both gave statements and tried to explain that it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he wasn’t thinking straight.
Part of me would love him to go to jail and have them throw away the key, but I know it would hurt my parents, and I don’t want me and Esme starting our life together with that hanging over us.
He’s been charged with Assault 2, but there’s talk it could be pled down to something like reckless endangerment, with probation and mandatory counseling instead of jailtime. I guess we just have to see how it plays out.
“How are you doing?” I ask, stepping in close and brushing a strand of hair back from her face.
She leans into my hand without hesitation. “I’m okay.” She glances at the cabin, then back at me and smiles. “I’m always okay with you.”
I set our bags down by the door while Esme moves ahead of me, opening the windows to let the air in.
It’s in regular use over the summer so it doesn’t need much airing out.
The place brightens almost immediately, light spilling across the floorboards, shifting the space from something closed and quiet to something lived in.
We unpack a little. On the way we stopped at a grocery store and got enough supplies to feed an army. Crow and Tarynn are riding up next weekend, so I wanted to make sure that the cupboards are well stocked. When we’re done unpacking, she nudges my shoulder with hers.
“Want to go for a walk, or do you need to get to work?”
I grin at her. “Tyrant doesn’t live up to his name. I’m mainly here for pleasure, sorting out the tech is a side quest.”
The trail behind the cabin is narrow, worn down from years of use.
Before it belonged to the club it was a hunting lodge.
It was also the place where Tyrant’s father held him and tortured him for days.
It might seem weird that it’s now the place where we all go to escape from daily life, but Tyrant wanted it to be repurposed.
And after years of brothers and their women riding out here, any bad memories have been exorcized.
As we walk, the ground is soft underfoot, scattered with pine needles and leaves. The air’s cooler under the trees, carrying that clean, sharp scent that only really exists out here.
Esme breathes in deep beside me, her shoulders lifting and then dropping as she lets it out slowly.
“I forgot this part,” she says.
“What part?”
“The way everything just slows down.” She glances at me. “You don’t feel like you have to keep up with anything. You can just live in the moment.”
We walk a little farther before settling on a fallen log near the edge of a small clearing. She sits first, and I drop down beside her, our shoulders brushing. After a second, she leans into me, and I wrap an arm around her without thinking about it.
It’s easy.
Everything with her is easy in a way that doesn’t feel fragile. I loved her for so many years from a distance. Maybe part of me was scared about what would happen if we made it real, but it’s all surprisingly easy. Like the universe had a plan.
Which I guess is cheesy as hell, but I like to think someone is looking out for us. Maybe Grandpa.
“How are your parents?” she asks after a minute.
I let out a slow breath. After the way they supported James and refused to believe their golden child could do no wrong, I told myself that I’d walk away. But that’s not me. I don’t know if we’ll ever play happy families, but we’re trying to rebuild something. “They’re… trying.”
“That’s a start.”
“Yeah.” I stare out at the trees. “Mom’s been quieter. Dad too. It’s like they don’t know what to say now that they can’t pretend everything’s fine. James could never do any wrong, and now they’ve had their eyes opened, they don’t know what to do with it.”
She nods slowly. “That might take time.”
“Yeah.” I pause. “If it happens at all.”
Her hand finds mine where it rests on her thigh, her fingers threading through mine. “It’s not your job to fix them.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to carry that.”
I tighten my grip slightly. “I know. But seeing how you’ve managed to rebuild something with your parents makes me want to try.”
She huffs a small laugh. “You’re doing better than you think.”
“What about you?” I ask. “How are you really doing?”
She goes quiet for a second, looking down at our hands.
“I feel free for the first time in forever. I know I kind of checked out emotionally with James long before all of this. But still… to know that someone would willingly put me in danger to save themselves. That hurt…”
She pauses and I run my fingers over her knuckles, stroking circles.
“Everything that happened brought me here though. To you. And if James hadn’t done what he did, then I don’t know if we’d be sitting here now.”
I nod. “That makes sense. I hate what he did, but if he hadn’t been such an asshole then I’d probably still be stuck in my office watching screens and being secretly in love with you.”
After a few moments she speaks, her voice soft. “Everything’s so much easier with you.”
I look at her. “How?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “You don’t make me question myself. You don’t make me feel like I have to prove anything. I just… am. You make me the best version of myself.”
I nod. I get it. That’s exactly how Esme makes me feel. Like I’m capable of anything with her at my side.
She studies me for a second, her expression shifting. “You’ve been thinking.”
“That obvious?”
“With you? Always. I can see the wheels turning,” she says with a smile.
I glance out at the clearing again, buying myself a second I don’t actually need. “I guess I have been,” I admit.
“What about?”
I turn back to her, because there’s no point dragging it out. “About us.”
Her expression softens, but there’s no hesitation there. No fear. She knows I’m not having second thoughts about us.
“Okay.”
“I know this has been fast,” I say. “At least from the outside.”
“It doesn’t feel fast.”
“No,” I agree. “It doesn’t.”
I take a breath, letting it out slowly.
“We’ve had fifteen years of this,” I continue. “Of knowing each other. Of being in each other’s lives. It just… wasn’t like this.”
Her fingers tighten slightly in mine. “I know.”
“I don’t want to pretend this is something it’s not,” I say. “I don’t want to treat it like something temporary or see how it goes.”
“It’s not temporary,” she says quietly.
“Yeah.” I nod. “I know. But I… ”
I shift a little so I’m facing her more fully.
“I don’t have a ring,” I tell her, because that’s the practical part that matters. “And I’m not gonna pick something for you without you being there. I want you to choose it. Something you actually want to wear every day.”
Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t interrupt.
“But that’s not the point,” I go on. “The point is… I want to marry you.”
The words land between us, solid and real.
Her breath catches, just a little.
“I had this idea of proposing properly,” I start. “I wanted to make it a day you’d remember. But then I realized we’ve had half a lifetime of waiting for the right moment. The right moment is now. No more waiting, I don’t see a version of my life that doesn’t have you in it.”.
“I love you,” she says. “I want us to wake every morning and experience everything that life has in store for us. I want to walk with you by my side through the good and the bad days. I want to grow with you and grow old with you.”
Something tight in my chest gives way all at once. “Is that a yes?” I ask.
She leans in, pressing her forehead to mine. “That’s a hell, yes!”
She kisses me then, slow and sure. There’s no rush to it. I pull her into my lap, my hands settling at her waist, her body fitting against mine like it always has.
Like it always will.
I put everything of me into that kiss, telling her all the things that I don’t have the words to say. When we pull back, she’s smiling, her pupils blown and her lips kiss swollen. I probably look just as undone as she does.
“We’re really doing this,” she says.
“Yeah,” I say. “We are.”
We sit there until the light starts to fade, until the air cools and the shadows stretch longer across the clearing. Eventually we head back to the cabin, hands brushing, bumping, finding each other again without thinking about it.
“I love you,” I murmur into her hair.
“And I love you,” she responds.
And for the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I’m waiting for something to fall apart. I’m not standing on the sidelines watching. I’m here, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, with the woman I love, excited to be planning our future.
And that’s not something I’m ever letting go.