Epilogue
Mine.
Clara
Two and a half months later
“A triple wedding really would have been nonsense,” Lukas says, breathless as I move his hand to my hip and relish the kisses he’s scattering across my neck. “You’d have hated the attention, and I don’t want anyone else’s anymore. Just yours. Forever.”
“Are you going to quit performing?” I exhale, clutching my husband.
As of roughly an hour ago, Lukas is my husband.
The thrill that shoots into me in response to that is immaterial.
“Do you want me to, cupcake?” He nips my jaw, settling heavy on his bed once I’ve backed his thighs into the side. Pausing, he looks up at me while I stand in front of him. I take in the gleam in his dual-colored eyes as his smile sparks. “I’ll do anything you want me to.”
My heart soars. “I’d like you to write more songs for me and tell the world you’re mine.”
“Done.”
I flush, scarlet to contrast my blue dress.
“I’d like you not to bully Viktor since we got married before him.
There is no race. We just…” My gaze scans my beautiful husband, who is nothing but kind and patient and terribly insecure every time he begs for an example of the kind of devotion that would never leave him cold and empty. “I just had no patience.”
“You were very patient,” he says. “We’ve been talking about this since October.” He grips a hand in my skirt, brings me between his knees. “It’s been a whole year.”
It is a new year. But it has been barely two and a half months since my parents visited.
Barely two and a half months since Lukas sang me to sleep in his arms. Barely two and a half months since I woke up, atop him while he dutifully stroked my hair.
Completely numb in his whole body, he smiled at me.
And I—still half asleep—asked him when we were getting married.
He said, Before Viktor can, surely.
I said, So, today?
Apparently it was too late that day. And I was too sad. But we could revisit the question later.
So I revisited it. Daily.
For two and a half months.
And he loved every moment of it.
But he wasn’t ready for a while, and he wanted to make sure I wasn’t making a terrible mistake by choosing him while my grief was fresh. That’s just how he is. Thoughtful. Sweet. Kind. Genuine. And a little bit messed up…
It hardly matters that it’s still afternoon. My bunny calendar reports an incident today. Although, it really won’t be anything close to assault.
Moving my hair away from my dress zipper, I turn my back to Lukas and listen to the catches come undone as he frees me. “If this is too fast for you,” I say, “we can slow down.”
“You’ve given me explicit permission to keep you.
And you’ve begged me for seventy-seven days to marry you.
I think my fear of rejection can sit in the corner if it has the audacity to hang around now.
” His lips collide with my back, and my spine arches.
He swears against my flesh. “I’m more worried this might be too fast for you. ”
Because he will always be more worried about me than he is about himself.
I love my husband. So much. And I would like so dearly to drown him in that love now.
My eyes close. “Every day is easier. Spending the holidays with everyone…surrounded by warmth and love and appreciation for all the work I put into the meals…helped heal something. And that feeling just keeps growing.”
His nose skates up my spine as he plants kisses on every bone. “We all love you. So much.”
I know. I can tell. Every single moment I’m here, I can tell. And—as of an hour ago—this family that adopted me is really, truly mine.
I am, now and forever, Clara Bachelor.
Hot breath races across my skin as Lukas draws me down onto his lap and wraps his arms around my waist. “You’ll be gentle with me, won’t you, sweetness?”
“I’ll do whatever you tell me to, Lukas.”
He kisses my neck. “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
He squeezes. “Again.”
“I love you.”
“How much do you love me, Clara?”
“With every atom in my body and thought in my head. I adore you. I want you, feverishly. You are my air. The salt of my life. The song playing on repeat in my blood. I love you enough to drown us both.”
“Come home with me,” he whispers.
I let my head fall back against his shoulder, and I say, “I am home with you.”
His smile etches itself into my skin moments before he claims me as his, repeating ceaselessly how he’s mine.