Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Those were my favorite days.
From Fiji, I took her to England. We spent another six weeks driving along narrow roads and exploring ancient ruins and castles.
There, we met a woman vicar, who, after hearing our story and Ally’s desire to be married in a county chapel, did exactly that for us. Not, she explained, in any official capacity, but as with the beach in Fiji, for our own memories. Ally said she felt as if we’d been blessed that day. I knew I’d been blessed since the day she came into my life.
I whispered our vows to her while we stood looking over the craggy, foggy moors of Scotland, feeling as though we were the only two people on earth. Then one night, stumbling back to the hotel in the late hours, after an evening at the local pub in Ireland, our sloppy kisses and slurred words still meaningful. And once more in the early morning hours on a beach in Greece as the water lapped at our feet and the sun danced on the lazy waves. Her happiness reflected the warmth of the air around us.
Every chance I got, I recommitted myself to her.
On her right hand now resided a sapphire ring, the blue so deep and vivid it was a replica of her stunning eyes. I saw it in a jewelry store window in London, the remarkable blue catching my eye. The small diamonds around it shone like bright stars. I was like a kid on Christmas morning waiting for her to notice it on the napkin where I’d placed it, beside her breakfast plate.
Room service had to be reordered. She lunged my way, and the tray went the other. We made love among the crumpet crumbs and sheets damp with tea and sticky with marmalade. It was perfect.
Our extended honeymoon was the ideal start to our life together.
My bag held many SD cards filled with pictures. Thousands of images I had taken of the scenery around us, the memories we had made, the adventures we’d experienced. Many shots of the two of us showed us wrapped around each other, laughing and in love. There were a few that were quiet and reflective—deep in thought. Some Ally had snapped of me while I was unaware.
And, of course, her. I had thousands of images of her.
Smiling, joyful, sweet as she loved me.
Annoyed, exasperated, resigned as she argued with me.
Sleeping and content with a small smile curving her lips.
Excited and wide-eyed as she discovered a new adventure with me.
Sad as she left each place, holding the memory of our time there in her tears.
My wife.
I looked over at her, her expression reflective as she gazed outside into the dark sky surrounding the plane.
“What are you thinking?”
She smiled as she turned her head, resting her chin on my shoulder. I leaned my cheek on her head. “You look very serious.”
“I’m thinking I’m glad to be going home. And yet,” she sighed, the sound sad and quiet, “I don’t want it to be over.”
“It’s not. We’re just going to reconnect with our lives here. Check in on everyone and then decide our next step. We can go away again, stay here, move—whatever you want.” Brushing my fingers along her cheek, I smiled. “Home isn’t four walls anymore. It’s where you are.”
She snuggled closer. “I always thought I was a homebody, but I’m already longing for the next adventure.”
“That’s because your wings were clipped, Nightingale. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Name it, and it’s yours.”
“Africa?”
I snickered into her hair. I knew she’d want that next. She wanted to meet Peter and Edwina. She wanted to meet the children. To see the place I had spent all those months without her and visit the clinic Elena’s money had founded.
“If that’s what you want. You’ll need some shots.”
“I know. I already checked.”
“Of course you did. How about we get home and settle in for a while, and we’ll plan it, yeah?”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for real life again.”
“Real life?”
“People…questions.” She hesitated.
“We’ve been gone for six months—it’s old news. People will have moved on to more important stories.” I grinned. “Besides, the ex-groom has moved on as well.”
Bradley had announced the cancelation of their wedding in a simple statement, then left town for his new life. He sent Ally a text about four months into our trip, telling her he had met a neurosurgeon and fallen—hard. They were already living together, and he now understood, more than ever, how wrong his actions had been. He expressed his apologies and hoped one day she would meet Jillian, to whom he had lost his heart. He also hoped one day to earn her forgiveness.
Ally was pleased for him. I was glad it was something she didn’t feel bad about anymore and slightly disappointed there didn’t seem to be any excuse to have to hit him again. He had moved on, so I had no reason to dislike him as strongly. I still did, though.