CHAPTER 101
She visited Mr. Wilson first thing the next morning, and the doctor again told her that as long as infection did not take hold—and that could be a big if—then he imagined Mr. Wilson was out of the woods.
But he was sleeping when she visited, so after staying an hour or two, she quietly snuck out, leaving only white bread and a note saying, “Thank you.” Others would take it as thanks for him defending her against Mr. Runington.
He would take it for what it was: a heartfelt thanks for diving in front of the man she loved, for that was what Kallias said the man had done when the gun was drawn.
Whether it was for her, for Kallias, for the notion of the sanctity of life, or from the natural goodness of his heart, she did not know.
What she did know was that without him, she might have been the most miserable woman alive.
Indeed, in saving Kallias, he had saved her.
As she left, the doctor again warned her of Mr. Runington Senior’s wrath. Rumor had it that he would come. She found she could not care less. Let him come. It was his son who was the one who should be ashamed. If he had any decency, so would he.
She stopped by Mr. Wilson’s place and cleaned up a bit—removing some moldy food, sweeping the floor, et cetera—and then she went once more to the bakery.
She picked up a small cake—it was expensive too—with white icing and pink rose petals, and then she picked some flowers too.
She put them in a bag so it would remain a surprise.
When she got back in the boat and rowed out far enough from town that she could no longer be seen, her mermaid popped his little head up. “What’s that?”
She wasn’t sure how he could even see it, but laughing, she said, “It’s a secret.”
“A secret?”
“Yeah. A present.”
“A present?”
“Yeah, for you. Well, for us.”
He smirked. “If I keep repeating what you say, will you reveal it bit by bit?” And he laughed as she blushed.
“No,” she said, almost petulantly. “You’ll have to wait.”
So wait he did. And when she got back, she had to first go to the lighthouse—she was almost starting to feel guilty about it, like it was a secret lover stealing her away—and then finally, when she was done, it was their time to be together once more.
She grabbed plates and silverware and slid them in the bag as well.
“I have to row over this time,” she told him, “unless you can hold the bag above the water.”
He could. He took it first, promising on his life not to peek—she believed him even without the promise—and then her.
The cave was decorated with light pink shells and light pink flowers. This time they were both hanging from the ceiling and walls as well as neatly arranged on the sand.
“It’s like you read my mind.” She smiled.
“Did I?” he asked.
She pulled out the pink flowers she had picked first and he laughed. “I suppose we really are connected,” he said, smiling at her with all the warmth the world could possibly contain.
“Soul mates,” she murmured in agreement, but he raised a brow as if he did not know what it meant. “It means we were meant to be.”
He smiled, leaning his head against hers. “I could have told you that.”
Then she pulled out the cake. “It’s beautiful,” he said.
“I got it to officially celebrate our wedding.” Did it sound silly? She wasn’t sure. He wasn’t smiling like it was silly. “Through thick and thin, forever, you have my heart, Kallias. I want to share everything, your highs and your lows, your joy and your sorrow. Don’t shut a single bit of it out.”
“Amorare ite,” he murmured, kissing her. “You have my everything.”
THE END