I’m sorry our relationship became so strained. I’m not sorry that his wife died. And I’m thankful he didn’t hold her death against me.
After the country club, I told him I was heading straight home, but I didn’t. I went to the cemetery instead. I visited Vanessa’s grave, setting flowers on it, staring at her name etched in stone until my vision blurred and I blinked the past away. Is she mine? I still don’t know. I say no. I pray no.
But none of us will ever know the truth so in my heart, I believe Vanessa is my sister.
That’s the way it has to be. Otherwise, I might slowly lose my mind. And I can’t have that happen again.
“What about your dad?” Fable asks, and I wonder if she’s a mind reader. We’re so in tune with each other I wouldn’t doubt it for a second. “And Owen? I want them both there, but …”
“No.” I grab her hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing her knuckles softly. “Hawaii is just for us. Our wedding is just for us. When we come back home, we can have a small reception, or a big one, whatever you want. We’ll celebrate with our friends.” And family, I want to add, but we don’t have much family. Only Dad and Owen. Dad mentioned wanting to put something together for us, some sort of party, and I know she might protest so it’s better not to mention it.
Better not to mention Fable’s mother, either. She doesn’t want her mom around and neither do I. She’s pulled too many tricks throughout Fable’s life, especially lately.
I don’t like that woman. Hell, I’ve never even met her. But Fable hates her and that’s enough reason to feel this way.
“Okay.” She blows out a harsh breath, her lips turning into a tremulous smile. “I’ll look into flights. Ask Jen to take care of Owen, or maybe Wade’s mom.”
“Fable.” Her gaze catches mine when I say her name and I lean in, settling my mouth on hers in a lingering kiss. I taste her, salty sweet. I smell her. I inhale her. The cut in the corner of my mouth hurts but I don’t care. “I love you.” The words are more like breath, exhaled against her lips, and she closes her eyes on a sigh, little tears like shiny diamonds clinging to her lashes.
“I love you, too.” I kiss her again after she says those words, dabbing at the tears with my thumb, catching them on my skin, feeling them sink into me. I’ve caught her tears more times than I can count. I’ve kissed her for what feels like forever. I’ve lost myself deep inside her body over and over.
It never grows old. Ever. My stomach still flips upon that first touch of her lips on mine. The sound of her laughter bleeds through me, suffusing my soul. The sight of her smile, the sound of pleasure that escapes her every single time I enter her …
This woman is just f**king it for me. She’s no longer a girl anymore. The jaded, angry, and defiant girl who was so determined to fight the world is gone, though shades of her still shine through.
I loved that girl. Fiercely. And I love the woman she is now, just as fiercely. She’s my fiancée, my future wife, the future mother of my children. Fable is the woman who will always stand by my side.
Forever.
Chapter Two
Fable
Sometimes, when I least expect it, I’m overcome with gratitude. How thankful I am that this beautiful, gentle, sexy man walked into my life so unexpectedly. It still feels like yesterday that I found him waiting outside for me at La Salle’s, the wind cold, his expression desperate. I hated him on sight. I didn’t care if he was tall and broad and gorgeous. He just wanted to use me.
They all wanted to use me. And like the hopeless girl that I was, I let them.
When Drew asked me to be his fake girlfriend, I was so sure he was like the rest of them. Using me just for his own gain. I also thought he was insane. I told him no. Somehow, I let him buy me anyway. I can still feel shame over that, though it’s stupid. He loves me. I know he does. I can’t get enough of him and he can’t seem to get enough of me.
During that horrible, scary, exhilarating, life-changing week, I forced him to open up to me and I probably shouldn’t have done that …
But I did. I don’t regret it, either. I found out things I suspected but didn’t want to realize. He was so closed off, such a mystery to me. I had to know, though. I had to find out what bothered him. I knew something was suspicious between him and his stepmother, and when she dropped that bomb that his dead sister may have been his daughter …
Well. I was too far in by that moment. I’d slept with him. I was falling in love with him. For once in my life, I wanted to be all in with a guy. I wanted to be there for him, and I was.
Then he left. And nearly broke me.
We came together, he ran away, and then we faced our fears. Together. When you struggle for something so good, so right, you cherish it more. You hold it close, nurture it, protect it, make sure you never, ever let your guard down. That’s how I feel about my almost husband.
For Drew and me, it’s always been about the together. No matter what, it’s me and him.
Forever.
The sun melts into the Pacific, casting its gold-tinged-with-pink glow upon the shimmering deep-blue water. Clouds gather, gray and blue backlit with orange, a dazzling sunset the likes of which I’ve never seen. It’s beautiful. I want to stare at it, get lost in all the colors and textures and scents and sounds, but I can’t. I’m kinda busy right now.
As in, the minister is saying words of love and devotion and marriage and my hands are in Drew’s. He’s watching me, that secret smile on his face, his too blue eyes filled with so much love for me I want to cry.
I hold it in, though, because I’m tough. We’ve had plenty of moments in our lives, both together and apart, to cry over and this is definitely not one of them. We’re supposed to be happy. No tears allowed, right? Drew squeezes my hands, as if he knows I’m thinking about crying and trying my hardest not to, and I offer him a tremulous smile.
We’re alone on Makena Beach on the south side of the island, our only witness the wife of the man officiating our wedding ceremony. Drew’s face is cast in a rosy golden hue; his dark brown hair flutters across his forehead, ruffled by the gentle breeze that washes over us. He’s wearing khaki pants that he’s rolled up a couple of times and a white button-down shirt, and his feet are bare. Looking casual and beautiful and so painfully handsome, I swear just looking at him makes my eyes hurt.
The waves crash gently on the shore. There’s sand in my toes and the hem of my long, white strapless dress is damp, we’re standing so close to the water’s edge.