“I love you,” she says as she comes, her voice strained as she loses herself with me, allowing me to find her. Tessa’s orgasm seems endless, and I can’t help but fucking love it. Her body goes limp, leaning into me, and she rests her head on my chest as she catches her breath.
“I heard that, you know?” I press a kiss to her sweat-beaded forehead, and she smiles a delirious smile.
“We’re a mess,” she whispers, lifting her head up so that her eyes can meet mine.
“An undeniable, beautifully chaotic mess.”
“Don’t go all writer on me,” she teases, out of breath.
“Don’t pull away from me. I know you’ve been missing me, too.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She wraps her arms around my waist, and I push her hair back off her forehead.
I’m happy, I’m fucking ecstatic that she is here with me, after all this time, in my arms, smiling and teasing and laughing, and I’m not going to ruin this. I’ve learned the hard way that life doesn’t have to be a battle. Sometimes you’re given a shitty hand from the get-go, and sometimes you fuck up along the way, but there is always hope.
There’s always another day, there’s always a way to make up for the shit you’ve done and the people you’ve hurt, and there is always someone who loves you, even when you feel like you’re completely alone and you’re just out there floating along, waiting for the next disappointment. There is always something better to come.
It’s hard to see, but it’s there. Tessa was there, underneath the bullshit and self-loathing. Tessa was there beneath my addiction, Tessa was there beneath my self-pity and my shitty choices. She was there as I climbed my way through it; she held my hand the entire fucking way; even after she left me, she was still there, helping me through it.
I never lost hope because Tessa is my hope.
She always has been and always will be.
“Will you stay with me tonight? We can leave here now. Just stay with me,” I beg.
She leans up again, pushing her breasts back into her dress as she looks up at me. Her eye makeup is smeared and her cheeks are red. “Can I say something?”
“Since when do you ask?” I touch the tip of her nose with my index finger.
“True.” She smiles. “I hate that you didn’t try harder.”
“I did but—”
She holds up a finger to silence me. “I hate that you didn’t try harder, but it’s unfair of me to even say that because we both know that I pulled away from you. I kept pushing and pushing, expecting too much from you, and I was so angry over the book and all of the attention that I didn’t want, and I let that rule my mind. I felt as if I couldn’t forgive you because of other people’s opinions, but now I’m angry with myself that I would even listen to that. I don’t care what people say about us, or me. I only care what the people I love think of me, and they love and support me. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for listening to voices that didn’t belong in my head.”
I stand in front of the counter, with Tessa still sitting in front of me, and I’m silent. I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting such a turnaround. I came to this wedding hoping for barely so much as a smile from her.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“That you forgive me?” she nervously whispers.
“I forgive you, of course.” I laugh at her. Is she insane? Of course I forgive her. “Do you forgive me? For everything? Or close to everything?”
“Yes.” She nods, reaching for my hand.
“Now I really don’t know what to say.” I run my hand over my hair.
“Maybe that you still want to marry me?” Her eyes are wide, and mine feel as if they are going to pop straight from their sockets.
“What?”
She flushes. “You heard me.”
“Marry you? You hated me like ten minutes ago?” She’s truly going to be the death of me.
“Actually, we were having sex on this counter ten minutes ago.”
“You actually mean that? You want to marry me?” I can’t believe that she’s saying this. There’s no way in hell she’s saying this. “Have you been drinking?” I try to recall if I tasted any liquor on her tongue.
“No, I had one glass of champagne over an hour ago. I’m not drunk, I’m just tired of fighting this. We’re inevitable, remember?” she mocks, using a terrible English accent.
I kiss her mouth, silencing her.
“We are the least romantic couple that’s ever been; you know that, right?” My tongue swipes over her soft lips.
“ ‘Romance is overrated, realism is in,’ ” she quotes from my latest novel.
I love her. Fuck, I love this woman so fucking much. “Marry me? Really, you will?”
“Not today or anything, but sure, I’ll think about it.” She climbs down from the counter, adjusting her dress.
I smile too. “I know you will.” I adjust my clothing, trying to understand everything that’s happening in this bathroom. Tessa is somewhat agreeing to marry me. Holy fucking shit.
She shrugs playfully.
“Vegas, let’s go to Vegas right now.” I dig into my pocket and pull my keys out of it.
“No way; I’m not getting married in Vegas. You’re crazy.”
“We’re both crazy; who gives a shit?”
“No way, Hardin.”
“Why not?” I plead, taking her face between my palms.
“Vegas is a fifteen-hour drive.” She glances at me, then at her reflection in the mirror.