Chapter 35
chapter thirty-five
We were off work tomorrow, I’d already gone to a meeting this morning, I’d talked to Mom on the phone, and Fishy was happily fed, just waiting to be let outside. There was nothing left to do but relax with each other for as long as we wanted, since we could easily sleep in tomorrow.
Thankfully, it only took a few weeks to get adjusted to the fast pace at Fire and Ice, and now I was doing a hell of a lot better.
I wasn’t two seconds away from stealing alcohol or having a whole breakdown anymore.
I’d even trialed the grill station for a little while, just dipping my toes back into the water in case I wanted to be a part of the kitchen staff again.
I’d missed it a lot more than I’d previously let myself admit.
Callum held up two mugs, smiling. “Hot chocolate acquired. Want any marshmallows before we head out?”
I raised an eyebrow at him, staring him down. “We are not bringing those into the shed. I don’t wanna drink wood shavings, and I don’t want you to, either.”
“They’re going to get cold, baby doll. The whole point of hot chocolate is to drink it while it’s hot.”
“Looks like you better drink up, then, buttercup.”
He sighed, holding one of the mugs out to me. I took a tentative sip, flinching when it burned my lip. “Let’s let ‘em cool. Come on, Fishy is waiting very impatiently.”
Fishy was sitting on his haunches right in front of the sliding glass door, staring into our souls. He whined, shifting from paw to paw in an oddly adorable dance. Per usual, the moment I opened the door, he ran out, jumping off the back porch and into the remaining snow.
The moon was full—bright enough to guide our walk to the shed without any extra lighting. It seemed like there were thousands of stars in the sky joining it, all twinkling so beautifully.
Once Callum turned on the construction lamp, I made my way into the shed with him, taking a seat on the plastic chair set off to the side. “So, what do you have left on it?”
He bent over to pick up a piece of wood, grunting when he sat down with it.
“Well, I’ve had the aprons clamped for fucking forever, so those should be dry.
I’ve just got this last leg to carve, and I’ll start putting them on, screwing them together once that’s dry, then sanding and staining and then I’ll be done. ”
He’d decided at some point that he wanted to build Crew and Price a new table for their dining room. For some reason, he had beef with the one they currently had, so he was taking matters into his own hands.
I’d decided not to ask questions about it.
On the floor behind him was a large tabletop with some clamps holding wood and glue together. I knew he’d been working on it for a few days, slowly getting back into his hobby.
I watched him carve a design into the table leg, chunks, and shavings of wood scattering all over the place.
I was far enough away not to worry about them, and he’d positively refused to wear a mask.
He claimed it was unnecessary. I decided to lay the argument to rest for now, but I fully intended to bring it up again later.
A cold breeze kicked through the open shed door, turning my hands to ice. I shoved them into my jacket pockets, content to just watch my boyfriend do what he loved doing.
My boyfriend.
It had a nice ring to it and had become one of my favorite things to say.
Sometimes, I’d say it around people we knew instead of his name, simply because I liked it.
After fighting for the title for so long, being able to say it was the most satisfying reward I could’ve asked for.
He was mine, just as I was his, and we were finally, finally on the path to our forever.
Our eternity. Our in sickness and in health and in all the bad and good.
“So, do you want to go to that thing next weekend?”
I had to blink a few times to get my eyes to focus again. I’d been staring so hard at him, I didn’t realize they’d gone blurry. “At Crew and Price’s house?”
He blew on the table leg, making shavings go everywhere. “Yeah. I thought it might be good to see everyone outside of work again. They want me to invite Jack, too. I know Willow will bring her partner. Might even bring their dog again if we want to bring Fishy along.”
Not too long ago, that idea would’ve terrified me. I wouldn’t have been able to stop thinking about how I’d left, or how they’d probably hated me. But it didn’t scare me anymore. “It sounds fun, yeah. Will you have the table done by then?”
“Oh, yeah. This won’t take me very long to finish. I’m going to have Jack take it up there before then, though. Mav has a truck, so he can borrow it from him and load it up.”
I watched as he picked up some sandpaper and started to go over the carved wooden leg. Balancing my elbows on my knees, I leaned forward, pushing my glasses up before resting my chin on my palms. “Do you think you’ll ever make something that’s just for us?”
He paused, glancing up at me. “Oh, shit. I never told you, did I?”
“Told me what?”
“Hold on.” He set the table leg down on the ground and walked to the storage box in the back. He opened up a few of the drawers before pulling out a wooden box. “Come here.”
I made my way over to him, looking down at the box in his hands. Right there on the top was my name, burned into it with gorgeous cursive writing. “Woah, what is that?”
He shrugged before opening it. “I made this. I don’t know why, or what I was planning to put in it, but I did, and then I used a wood burner to put your name on it. I made it with you on my mind, so I obviously had something planned, right? I’m just not sure what it was.”
I took it from his hands, tracing over every grain with the tips of my fingers. He’d made something for me. He’d really fucking made something for me. The inside was deeper than I thought it’d be, going past my wrist when I put my hand in it. “Wow. I love it.”
“It’s just a box. An empty one, even.”
Smiling, I took a seat right on his lap. “It’s still something you made for me. It just needs to be filled up, and it’ll be perfect.”
He looked up at me, his hazel eyes so bright and shiny as he wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me securely in his lap. “What should we put in it?”
I thought about it for a second, staring at the box again. Did it really matter that it was meant to be mine? What was mine was his. His heart was in there, and I couldn’t stand the idea of it being without mine. “Do you still have your wood burner?”
“I should, yeah.”
“Well, why don’t we add your name on top, and we can put memories in here? Our memories. Like little tokens, or something from special days or milestones.”
“Hm.” He grinned and leaned his head on my arm. “I like that idea. Oh, you know what we should do?”
I held the side of his face as he tilted his head back to look at me. “What?”
“When we get married, we should write our vows on pieces of cardstock and put them in here.”
Not an if, but a when. When we got married.
Fuck, that simple sentence did nothing but spark a fire in my heart.
There was no fear or hesitation. No dread.
No worry. All I could think about was how badly I wanted that for us—rings on our fingers, the same last name, and a lifetime of holding each other’s hearts.
Yeah, I wanted that.
I closed the box, letting it rest on top of my thighs. “That sounds perfect, baby. Absolutely perfect.”
We watched Fishy have the time of his life, parading through the thawing snow on the ground beneath the moonlit sky. Aside from the gentle breeze carrying through the shed, we were silent. Nothing needed to be said because we already knew.
We’d loved each other for the past twelve years, and there was absolutely nothing that could change that. No amount of time, or distance, or grief, or sadness could change that love. That devotion. We’d fought for it. We’d fought so fucking hard, and here we were.
Together.
Watching the stars twinkle and our dog play while hot chocolate waited for us on the kitchen counter.
Our clothes were mixed together in a dresser in the bedroom, half mine, half his.
Our chefs' jackets were hung up side by side in the closet. Our bed didn’t have a line in the middle, keeping us from touching each other.
My house keys were hung up by the front door, never to be moved.
I was here to stay, and so was the love I had for Callum, a name I’d convinced myself was taboo for a decade.
I loved my life. I loved my friends. I loved my mom. I loved my boyfriend.
I was happy.
And so fucking ready for the rest of our lives. Together. Just me and him against the rest of the world, knowing we could face anything and come out on the other side with our hearts and our love still intact.
Feeling as light as a feather, I had ended the cycle.