Epilogue
Phoebe
Almost one year later…
“ R emind me where you said you want this.” Henry held the bowl of potato salad out in front of him
“Erm.” I glanced around the small garden that looked like something out of Country Living magazine, with its white wooden tables, chairs, and scattering of English country bunting I’d made Henry spend far too long hanging from tree to tree. “Third table on the left. With the other cold foods.”
I turned back to the task in hand before he could respond, which involved tying ribbons into bows around the adult party bags I’d had made up for our guests, who were due to arrive any moment now.
My hands had started to shake with the pressure of time running out—pressure no one had applied to this situation other than myself.
Today had to go well. It had all come down to this. The months of stressing, planning, decision making, relocating…
A warm palm glided over my shoulders before I could spiral, the touch now so familiar to my body, it rarely caught me by surprise anymore. Henry’s hands spent more time on me than off me, and they had for the last twelve months of our lives together.
“Hey,” he said, leaning closer, his whispered words next to my ear. “Breathe, Phoebe.”
I closed my eyes, soaking in the feel of him like I always did, as though I still couldn’t believe being able to call him my own had somehow become my reality. I turned to look up into those dark eyes as he held me with one hand, the potato salad with his other.
His mouth hitched up on one corner. “You’re doing too much again.”
“I am?”
“Mmhmm.”
I sighed. “I just want to make a good impression.”
“On who? They’re our friends and family. They don’t need you to impress them. They already love you.”
“I know, but…” I paused and exhaled slowly, allowing some of the tension in my shoulders to fall away. “This is the first time they’re seeing us like this, in our new home. I want them to love it as much as we do.”
“You give their opinions too much weight. We both agreed we’d stop doing that, remember?”
“Our parents haven’t spent much time together this last year, Henry,” I said, airing my real concerns to him for the first time, because I couldn’t keep them in a moment longer.
James and Nina Hyde had welcomed me with open arms from the moment they’d met me, but my parents had been a different story at the start—mainly in part to their separation not long after we’d returned from Mykonos.
Belinda and Declan Turner had finally decided to part ways.
It had been exactly what I’d been praying for in secret for years, and after losing my grandpa—the man who’d taught me so much in life before that terrible disease robbed him from me, only weeks after landing back in England—Mum had realised life was too short to be existing in the mediocre.
I sometimes wondered if seeing me with Henry had been the thing to tip her over the edge once and for all.
We’d been unable to stop smiling or keep our hands off each other when I’d introduced him to my parents, that new love of ours a powerful thing that refused to be hidden away, and when tears had formed in Mum’s eyes, I’d wondered if they were tears of happiness for me or sadness that her own love had been extinguished by… life.
“Belinda and Declan love me,” Henry said. “And Nina and James love you. There isn’t anything to worry about.”
“What if my parents argue while they’re here, together but not together now?”
“Have they done that any other time around us since they split?”
“No.”
“There you go, then. You always say how they get on far better now than they ever did when together.” Henry placed the potato salad down on the table beside us before he wrapped himself around me fully, his firm hands finding the small of my back as I stared up at him. “Today is about you?—”
“Us,” I corrected.
“Fine, us.” That knowing smile came to life. “If anyone behaves anything less than perfectly, I’ll be using my doorman skills to kick them out in an orderly manner, friends and family or not.”
“I’m so glad you don’t do that job anymore,” I confessed.
I’d hated it on our return whenever I’d known he’d offered to cover some shifts at some exclusive bars his friends owned, always worrying about him getting hurt again, or worse, attacked with a weapon.
Those knife crimes were always being reported in the news, and Henry had too perfect a face and body that would make many a drunk man jealous.
The day he told me he’d quit it for good, I’d thrown myself at him in thanks. Literally.
Henry reached up to brush a hand through my hair, which I’d spent far too long setting into beach waves for our little soiree. “Everything’s good now. Better than either of us could ever have imagined. Remember that today when you feel overwhelmed, okay?”
I nodded my agreement.
“And remember this: I love you. I love this life we’ve built out of nothing that’s become everything.”
“Thanks to you buying this amazing house for us,” I reminded him, even though Henry hated me bringing it up whenever I dared to remind him that he’d been the one to put the majority of the work into this dream of ours… which had been far too often recently.
“Don’t bring this up again, Phoebe. You know what’s mine is yours now.”
It had been a conversation we’d had far too many times, the guilt of him spending his inheritance on anything to do with me eating at me more than I could bear some days.
But after a year of commuting back and forth—Henry, once again, doing most of the work, because apparently, he hated to spend even a day away from me—he’d said he couldn’t think of any better way to spend some of it than finding a place to live together that could be ours forever.
Somewhere we could just be us again.
“My parents left me money to build a future, Phoebe. That future belongs to you. There's no life ahead of me if you’re not in it, so let me do this for us.”
That had been just one of his many arguments, and it had taken some convincing on his part, but unfortunately for me, he’d learnt a few tricks over the last twelve months that got me to submit far quicker than I would have liked.
Still… I always came away smiling at the end of it.
“You know I’m paying you back once I open my own dance studio and become a local teacher hero, don’t you?” I smiled, trying not to let the conversation get too heavy before our guests arrived.
Henry struggled not to roll his eyes. “You can try, but I already know how that’ll work out for you.”
“If your money is mine, then mine has to be yours, too, Henry.”
“Jesus, Phoebe, will you let me look after you, woman? That’s all the payback I need in this life.”
“So stubborn.”
“Yep. I live to irritate you with the happiness I promised.” He leaned down to gift me with a kiss that was cut far too short by the ringing of the doorbell, followed by the sounds of Bailey and Rhea pushing through the door without waiting for us to go to them.
“Bee!” Bailey cried out from down the hallway. “This house! Those flowerbeds out front! All those hydrangeas! This place is insane. Where the hell are you? I need to hug you right now.”
There were too many questions to respond to before her full head of dark hair came around the corner into the kitchen, and her bright white smile lit up the room in the way only Bailey’s smile could.
She held the power of the sun, the moon, and the stars in that grin, and I knew one day she’d conquer the world and make it her own, because a woman like her had been made to shine.
“There you are,” she said with a laugh. “Get your hands off my girl, Cohen. You’ve been hogging her enough as it is.”
“You know I don’t share, Bailey.”
“Well, you’re going to have to learn to.” After dropping a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of champagne on the countertop, Bailey nudged Henry out of the way and wrapped me into a hug so tight, it made me squeak. “Ugh, you feel so good in my arms, Little Miss Bee.”
“You, too, Bails. But… I only saw you two weeks ago back in Matlock.”
She pulled away and held me at arm’s length. “But knowing you’re not down the road from me anymore hurts me daily.” She narrowed her eyes and cast a glance Henry’s way.
He held his hands up in surrender. “You warned me to make her the happiest she could be. I’m only following your instructions.”
“Hmm.” Bailey looked him up and down before her smile erupted again. “You make a good point. Fine. I’ll allow it.”
With a tip of his head, Henry lowered his arms and pushed his hands into his trouser pockets as he winked at me.
Butterflies took flight in my stomach yet again, and I hoped and prayed that there’d never become a day where I took a simple wink from him for granted.
“I’m so sorry I brought the drama to the party,” Rhea said with a theatrical sigh of her own, pulling up beside me and giving me a one-armed hug. “Love the house, Bee. Stratford-Upon-Avon looks good on you.” She glanced over at Henry. “You, too, Cohen.”
“Good to know, Rhea. Glad you approve.”
“Wouldn’t have let you move her two hours away from us if I didn’t.”
“Okay, that’s enough from you two.” With a roll of my eyes, I broke free from their arms and gifted them with jobs they hadn’t asked for, thanks to their early arrival.
I poured them a strong drink each, then pushed them outside with dramatic flair.
They made their way to the garden, taking it all in and looking around in wonder, and the look of awe on their faces filled me with pride.
If anyone was going to be honest with their opinions of my new life, it would be my two best friends.
Thankfully, though, it looked like they more than approved. Deep down, I’d always known they would.
Henry picked up his potato salad and leaned in to whisper, “Have I ever told you that your friends are terrifying?”
“You never needed to.” I smiled. “It’s hard to miss.”
“If I wink at you today, it means you need to come save me from their wrath, okay?”