“Jesus, you’re so fucking perfect,” I murmur, taking long strides toward her as she turns and offers her bare back to me. Taking the opportunity, I press a kiss to her nape and feel her involuntary shiver.
“You’re anything but an old lady,” I assure her. “Apparently, I did a shit job of reminding you last night.”
“That was two nights ago, old man.”
I slowly pull the zipper up to secure her dress. “You’re fucking breathtaking, Addie, always have been,” I tell her as she glances at me over her shoulder, her pink-painted lips curling up.
“You don’t look so bad, yourself,” she murmurs, “but get that look out of your eyes, Butler. We have an appointment to keep.”
“What look?” I taunt, playing the long game we started with years ago as a flash of Addie the first time I saw her at the party flits through my mind. She looked like a living dream, despite the scowl on her face as she chugged champagne. Stunned by the sight of her, I stood waiting until she spotted me standing between the tables, zeroed in on her. The second our eyes met, she stopped her glass halfway to her mouth, her lips lifting up in much the same way as they are now, her expression looking a lot like ‘okay, now who in the hell are you?’
Like me, she was a little bit jaded, a little bit over it, but just as hopeful she was wrong about being both those things. I didn’t have the answer that night of who I was to her, but it hit me like a freight train a few months later.
Hers.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks. “You okay?”
Turning her toward the mirror, I circle her waist and dip my chin to rest in the curve of her neck as I study our reflection. “Better than okay…thinking about the night I saw the most beautiful pissed-off woman at a party and immediately wanted her naked.”
She grips my hands resting on her stomach. “Good thing to think about,” she says as we soak each other in. “This is going to be one of those days, isn’t it?”
The slight shake in her voice tells me none of us are getting out of this without our emotions getting the best of us. Though my wife is tougher than nails—tougher than me—I can’t help but feel the same burn of what she’s feeling as her eyes mist. “We’ve still got a ton to look forward to as well, Addie.”
“I wish we’d have had more kids,” she sighs. “At least so we wouldn’t lose our shit on her every time she hits a milestone. That’s a lot of pressure for her,” she says through a laugh.
“I wouldn’t change anything.”
She runs a hand up to catch a tear from beneath her eyes. “Me neither. Now get away from me before you ruin my makeup.”
Refusing to budge, I hold her tightly to me a little bit longer. “I love you, Addison Butler.”
“What did I just say, you jackass?” She snaps playfully as I turn her and gently lift her tears away with my thumbs.
“Not my fault you’re a cry baby.”
She smooths her palms over my shoulders before gliding them down the arms of my jacket, eyes flaring with familiar heat. “Don’t drink too much,” she orders huskily, the promise of a good night shining in her eyes if I obey.
I run my nose along hers. “Yes, ma’am.”
Ignoring her protest, I kiss her, ruining her lipstick, and she resists for just a second before she allows it. It deepens, and I rip myself free before I make good on what’s brewing between us.
“I’m going to go check on the bride.”
“Okay,” she says, wiping my lips free of the color before turning back toward the mirror. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
“Take your time, baby. We’ve still got a few hours.”
“Go,” she waves me off, “stop worrying about me and go take care of our little girl.”
The humidity covers me as soon as I close the door to our bungalow. Sweat gathering on my brow, I follow the walkway past the lush tropical landscape and take it all in. Aside from the heat, it’s the perfect day. Fragrance drifts from a cluster of some exotic flowers I can’t identify a few feet away, and I inhale it deeply, deciding to burn every detail of this day into memory. This is definitely one of those days to pay attention to, to take detailed notes of, to cherish.
Addie and I have had hundreds of them over our years together, and adding today to the collection is bittersweet. The burn in my throat threatens as they continue to trickle in, and I pause on the rolling memory of Addie in the back of my Tahoe—hovering over our newly occupied car seat the day we brought our baby home from the hospital. Terrified, I drove home going ten miles an hour as every asshole in Austin sped around us, cursing us and laying on their horn. The mortification I felt that day knowing I had a big job to do, the pressure continually mounting as the world revealed its ugly side while I fought to safely get my wife and newborn home. Addie had laughed at me for driving too slowly, but I could see the slight fear in her own expression just before she shakily whispered, “We’ve got this.”
We didn’t always have it, but at least it didn’t feel that way until we had weathered through some of our trials. It was only after when we came out stronger, wiser—if not a bit tattered, that those words rang true. Years of trials and triumphs continue to replay in my mind as I travel down the well-marked path of the tiny island resort toward Natalie’s bungalow. Turning the corner, back already covered in a sheen of humidity-induced sweat, I’m stopped short when I see Stella stepping out and pulling the door closed, a close-lipped smile on her face. She takes the few steps down and stops. As if sensing me, she looks up, and our eyes meet for the first time in nearly three decades.
“Nate,” she rushes out, watering eyes sweeping me from head to freshly polished wingtips.
“Hi, Stella. Fancy meeting you here,” I quip, sliding my hands into the pockets of my tailored tuxedo slacks. Reid and Stella’s flight got delayed due to a tropical storm, so they missed the rehearsal dinner. They arrived late last night, and we haven’t had a chance to greet each other yet.
“Oh my God,” she proclaims, “we got old.”
“Hey, speak for yourself. I’m feeling every bit the handsome motherfucker today,” I grin, exaggeratedly adjusting my bowtie.
“Well, most definitely that,” she compliments as her eyes trail over me. I take her in as well, her flowing pale pink dress. Her long, black hair curled and draped over her shoulders.
“You look beautiful.” I take a step forward. “It’s good to see you. Ready for this?”
She immediately lifts a palm. “Stay back!”
I flinch at her outburst and stop my approach.
“Sorry,” she sniffs and laughs. “But I’m warning you, I’m an emotional, sentimental wreck today. If you come any closer, I will cry.”
“Well,” I say, stalking toward her, “tough shit.”
I make it to her in two more strides, and she grips me tightly to her as I lift her off her feet. We hug for several seconds, and I keep her suspended as she pulls away, her palms on my shoulders, beaming as a tear skates down her cheek. “I warned you,” she says. “Wow…Nate.” She shakes her head in disbelief.
“I know…but you should know you aren’t alone,” I say, easing her back to her feet. “You should go introduce yourself to Addie. Bungalow 12. She’s anxious to meet you and hasn’t been able to leave the room yet, because she’s in the same state. Though she’ll be hard-pressed to admit it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really,” I grin. “Believe it or not, I married a woman more ornery than you.”
“Ohhhh, in that case,” she playfully rubs her hands together. “Then I definitely will. Maybe I’ll grab a bottle of something strong we can share.”
I chuckle. “That’s a very good idea, and at the same time, fucking terrifying.”
She laughs, and the sound hits me with a shot of nostalgia. We take a few seconds to soak in the moment, lost in our individual recollections.
“See you in a little while?” She asks, giving us both an out.
“See you there,” I say with a wink before turning and taking the stairs up to the bungalow.
“Nate?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Stella’s already at the foot of the stairs, her eyes lowered. Her fearful expression has me walking back down to stand in front of her.