EPILOGUE
A YEAR AND A HALF LATER
I’ve been in love with Natalia Mae since I was a seventeen-year-old boy, and now…
Well, fuck, now I live with her. She sleeps in my bed, I hold her to sleep, I kiss her good morning, and I make love to her—it’s perfect. She’s mine, and she’s always going to be mine.
I arrive at her therapist’s office with five minutes to spare. I like to be here when she gets out, even though it’s summer and she loves walking everywhere when it’s sunny. But I miss her too much to wait for her to walk.
Hell, I miss her too much all the time.
I thought we were inseparable before, but after coming back from Natalia’s birthday trip to Vegas with her dads last year, I’ve been attached to her hip.
I can’t leave this girl alone for the life of me and I never want to.
It really is just one of those things you never come back from.
She and I are tied together by the force of the universe.
But the truth is, I just orbit her. I kiss the ground she walks on before and after she takes a step forward or back.
I struggle every day with overdoing it, but how I feel is overwhelming—the urge to buy her whatever she wants, do whatever she wants , to make her her favorite foods, to make sure she’s okay—anything just to keep her happy.
It’s overwhelming and it’s become my entire life.
Of course, she’s nicely asked me to tone it down. Not in those words, but she’s assured me that the only thing she needs from me is me—nothing else. And that’s the one thing I’ll always give her. She’ll always have me.
I wait patiently—well, as patiently as I can—with my arms crossed and my foot tapping the concrete as I count down the seconds until I get to see her.
I get to eighty-three when the door opens. I love when I get here right on time.
Natalia comes out of her therapist’s office looking a bit brighter, with a different glow. Healing isn’t linear for anyone, and it’s taken her a while to realize it isn’t linear for her either.
“What are you doing here?”
I shrug. “Picking you up?”
“I was going to walk.” She grins anyway.
“I wanted to spend time with you before we had to go back to work.”
Natalia throws her arms around my neck, her body sinking against mine. I lean further back against the car and hold her close. Her left hand curls around the back of my neck and her thumb runs over the small tattoo I got just a few weeks ago.
It’s a semi-colon, just like hers. Behind my right ear, just like hers.
“Will I see you at home?” I ask. I never get tired of asking, even though we’ve lived together for the past year in my house.
Our house now. Her stuff is everywhere—her hair products, her perfume, her clothes in the laundry mixed with mine, sometimes her curls in the drain—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Natalia peers up at me with a smile as bright at the sun. “Yes, you will,” she says. “Just like every other night, RoRo.”
I groan. “I’ll let you call me that only because you’re pretty.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“Not because you love me?”
“Nope.”
“Hmm.” She sighs. “Okay then. I suppose if you don’t love me I’ll walk. See you at home.”
“No, no, no. Come here.” I pull her back with an arm around her waist, carrying her against my chest. “How was today?”
“Good.” She smiles. “Better.”
“And how are you today?”
“Better than yesterday,” Natalia says and I keep smiling.
“Good.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. “Let’s take you to work.”
At home and in bed, Natalia straddles my lap and her hands cradle my face as we kiss. It’s slow and languid and soft. Lips parting, tongue grazing, teeth nipping—it’s the kind of lazy that happens after hot, savage sex with her.
“Hmm,” she moans into my mouth, her hands smoothing from my neck down my chest, her palms resting on my pecs. She pulls away. “I love you.”
“And I love you.” I grin so hard my face hurts.
With the way Natalia makes me smile, I’m surprised the muscles in my face aren’t bigger than they are.
“You know, one day you’re going to have the worst smile lines ever,” Natalia says, her thumbs like parenthesis around my lips then pulling them upward into a smile. “And I’m going to love it.”
“Good, because it’s you that’s giving me those wrinkles.”
“And it is an honor.” She chuckles. “Shall we eat dinner and watch a movie on the couch?”
“We shall.” I grin. “Mozzarella sticks and greasy burgers?”
Natalia moans, her eyes beaming brightly. “Sounds like one hell of a meal, chef.”
I arch a brow. “Chef?”
“New kink?”
I wink and grip her hips. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she says. “I’ve just been…thinking a lot. My dads are coming back again soon and I was talking about it in therapy. I started thinking about things we could do.”
“With your dads?”
“No, like, us. You and me,” she says, then her cheeks redden. “In the future.”
My eye brows raise just a bit. “Okay? Tell me our future, sweetheart.”
She giggles softly. “Okay,” she breathes. “I thought about adopting one day—a child, of course.”
I smile, my heart pounding with the image of our future together alone. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?” She slaps my chest softly. “Rowan.”
“What?’” I chuckle.
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“I would never.” I kiss her. “I’m saying, okay,” I say. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what we do or where we go, Natalia. We can adopt a hundred kids and dogs and cats. I just want you.”
“Wherever and whatever?”
“Wherever and whatever,” I say. “But I’d like to maybe do the whole adult thing.”
“What adult thing?”
I lift a shoulder. “You know. House, car, marriage.”
“And if I say I want a courthouse wedding?” She half smiles.
“Then we’ll take our friends in a cheap limo and have them be our witnesses,” I say.
“And if I say I don’t believe in marriage?” Natalia taunts, her fingernail tracing lightly on my chest.
“Then I’ll tell you that marriage is just a piece of paper,” I say. “I decide how long I’m going to love you. I commit. And I’ve already done that.”
“Really?” She arches a brow. “How long then?”
“Forever,” I whisper. “And however long you let me after that.” I kiss her chest, over her heart, and whisper against her skin, “You, you, you.”
She falls over me, lips brushing over mine.
“You.”
Kiss.
“You.”
Kiss.
“You.”
Her.