She smiles and turns the knob, pushing it open. And then she gasps.
I transformed a guest room into a studio for her. An entire wall of windows face the lake, flooding the room with light. Two easels, built-in shelves filled with every possible art supply she could ever need, a sitting area and I even had skylights installed for nights when the moon is overhead.
Mila is frozen.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I ask. “Cat got your tongue?”
She smiles slowly, mischievously. “I thought we already established that the cat most definitely doesn’t have my tongue.”
Memories from the night on my kitchen floor stir my groin and I quickly think of other things. Dead puppies, nuns, cold fish.
Once my groin is under control, I tug on her hand, leading her from shelf to shelf.
“I wanted you to have everything you would need to paint here,” I tell her. “Did I forget anything?”
She spins around, looking at everything.
“This is amazing,” she breathes. “You didn’t forget a thing. But you must’ve been working on this for a while. What if… what if we hadn’t worked things out?”
I wrap my arms around her from behind.
“That wasn’t an option,” I answer. “It was never an option. Love never fails, Mila. And I’ll never fail you again. That’s a promise.”
I pull her around so that she is looking at me with her gorgeous green eyes.
“Mila, that day in your shop almost crushed me. When you said no to me, I didn’t know if I would survive it, but I knew I had to. I knew that I had to change, for me and for you. And I think I have. I’m still working on it… it’s going to be a process. But I’m willing to put in the work. Forever, if that’s what it takes. So…I’m going to ask you again, babe. Stay with me. Stay with me here in my house. It’s only a five minute drive to your shop when it’s open. And you can use this studio for your art. I promise to try not to snore. And to put the toilet seat down. Most of the time, anyway. Just stay with me. Please. I never want to be away from you again.”
Mila stares at me, her eyes glittering. “On one condition.”
I feel the breath freeze on my lips. “Name it.”
“I get to paint you nude any time I want.”
A chuckle rumbles through my chest and I grab her, crushing my lips to hers.
“Any time,” I mumble against her mouth. “You can do anything to me at all, actually. Nude or otherwise.”
She laughs and I lift her up. Her legs wrap around my waist…right where they belong as her fingers rake through my hair.
“Yes,” she tells me breathlessly. “Yes. I’ll stay with you.”
We tumble to the floor, grasping at each other, breathing each other in. Mila’s tongue slips into my mouth, her breath sweet and warm. Her hands clutch me, pulling me closer and closer.
Her legs are wrapped around me and I moan as she strokes me. Then my lips are on her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. After a few heated minutes, she pulls my face back up to hers.
With her forehead pressed to mine, she whispers, “I love you.”
I grin against her lips.
“I know.”
I quickly roll over with her in my arms and I hover above her before I slide my hand between her legs. She is panting within a minute and calling my name within two.
I smile again and as she pulls me to her, I enter her slowly and sweetly.
I groan from the sheer, raw pleasure of it.
The amount of love in this room is incredible; it is thick and almost tangible. It is mind-blowing to me. I’ve never made love to any other woman before. It was always fucking in its most primal. It was never like this…so achingly sweet.
Until now.
With each stroke that I take, warmth swells in my chest until I feel I can’t contain it. I clutch Mila to me gently, not wanting to release her even for a moment. And when I am finally throbbing into her, I wrap her in my arms and we stay enmeshed together for what seems like forever, sticky and wet.
“That was perfect,” she tells me sleepily, her fingers playing with mine.
“You’re perfect,” I answer, closing my eyes. I don’t even worry about the fact that it’s a * thing to say. It’s the truth.
Mila snuggles into my side and lays her head on my chest. Eventually her breathing grows rhythmic as she slips into sleep and I hover on the edge of drifting off myself.
My last conscious thought is that Mila did what she promised. She chased my nightmares away. It’s because of her that I even went to see Dr. Tyler. If I hadn’t, I never would have remembered what happened to my mother. And if I hadn’t remembered that, I never would have fixed the hole in my heart.
I never would have been whole.
Mila did that.
I’ll never tell her because she would just wave her hand and tell me that I’m the one who fixed things, that I put in the work. She never takes enough credit. So I’ll just have to love her every day of her life as a thank you. It’s enough that I know the truth.
And I’ll never hide from the truth again.
It can’t hurt me anymore.
Epilogue
Twelve Months Later