Epilogue
Abbey
Christmas Eve I woke up in his arms, as I had almost every night since he’d travelled back from Singapore to tell me he loved me. He was awake, scrolling on his phone. The Australian sun had made him significantly more tanned than he used to be, and his facial hair was longer than it normally was.
We were on holiday; we had just come back from London, where he had sold his house.
It was panning out that we travelled there once every eight to twelve weeks, and it seemed to be working well.
He had hired an Operations Manager for Hartwell Holdings and that allowed him to work from Sydney.
He found a new Operations Manager for Delacqua too. Me.
Ollie and I were killing it, as usual. Nick bought flash new offices for himself across the road from our building and the three of us and Mike often took lunch together.
London had been bloody freezing this time around and I was happy to be home, but I loved the English capital at the same time.
My house was now on the market too and, after we celebrated Christmas, we would pack it up and move to Nick’s apartment until our new place had renovated bathrooms and a fresh coat of paint.
It was bigger than we needed, and he’d spent more money than I approved of. He was insisting the money from the sale of my house should go into a trust account for Ella for university. She would need it, he said. She was going to be a doctor and he would not have her education put her in debt.
Ella and Summer were doing great. They got on mostly, which helped, though certainly we’d had our moments, but everything to do with Nick and I was perfectly imperfect. And that is the way we preferred it.
Our family was coming over today and they were all staying the night so we could wake up together tomorrow. Evelyn had come home with Nick and me, and I was thankful that, between her and Kate, the cooking would be done.
Our girls had decorated a fresh tree as Christmas carols had played all evening, much to Nick’s joy. Though he grumbled throughout the month over the sheer number of carols played, I’d heard him humming along with Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas’, so he can’t fool me.
I inhale the smell of pine and the vanilla and cinnamon scent of Summer’s favourite Christmas candle.
‘Hi, sweetheart.’ He kissed my head, and I reached out, holding him here.
‘Hi,’ I whispered hoarsely.
‘I’ll go make you tea.’
‘I’m okay, just stay.’
He smiled. ‘Okay.’
I had no way of knowing I could love this much. No way of knowing I could be this much a part of a partnership. Complete love and respect. Passionate. So much passion.
He thinks I don’t know about the little box he has wrapped and popped under the tree. Oh, Nick. I know everything that is under that tree.
He’ll ask. I’ll accept.
I cannot wait.