The water from the shower flows over me, matching the weather outside. Today is the day I take charge. But not yet. Sam is behind me in this shower testing every ounce of strength I have. So far, I’m winning. I bend my head to rinse the shampoo, when her arms wrap around my waist. She just stands there, holding me, sucking streams of water off my back.
“Thank you,” she says.
I turn and kiss her. A full kiss for the first time in almost two months. My heart soars at the contact of my tongue against hers.
Little by little, my Sam is coming back to me.
“We’ll be there tomorrow night,” Finn says. Sam is people watching from a chair at the café we stopped at for lunch. I stepped out when my phone buzzed so as to not disturb the other patrons.
“Perfect. I have the main suite reserved for you and the girls, so you will all be in the same space.”
“You and Sam aren’t already in there?”
“No. I didn’t want her to have to move. I plan on keeping us separate. And you’re sure Zinnie is ready?”
“Yes. She and Charlotte have spent a lot of time together while you’ve been away. I went with her to two therapy sessions. The therapist agreed she was ready. She’s been begging me to fly us over earlier, but I wanted you to have the time you needed.”
“Finn.”
“I know.” I don’t have to tell him how grateful I am. “Hang on,” he tells me, and Zinnie gets on the phone.
“You’re not waiting for us, are you?”
“No, sweetheart. This has to be about the two of us.”
“I know,” she says, and I can tell she means it. “It’s how Dad would have done it.”
Sam hasn’t been the only one thinking the last few days. Being away for the first time since the funeral has given me time to process and remember my friend. The things he said, the stories he told.
One in particular resonated with me the first night I was here. The night I decided to stay as long as necessary to bring Sam back to herself.
“Jenny and I are going to Vermont for the weekend. The girls will be with her parents. If you need me, call someone else,” he jokes, lifting his beer to us before taking a sip. The five of us are in a circle of leather chairs. The bartender brings us each a couple of fingers of Macallan.
“Didn’t you just get back from taking the girls to Paris?” Colin asks.
“Yep. But this trip is just for me and Jenny. Gents, once you man-whores finally take the plunge, you’ll learn, kids grow like weeds. They’re gone before you can blink an eye, living their own lives. Jenny is the love of my life. By taking care of her, I take care of the girls.”
None of us understood what he meant. It wasn’t possible for us to. But now, now I understand.
“I need to call Emme,” Sam says as we walk the streets downtown.
“Okay,” I respond. I don’t tell Sam that Emme is more than aware that she is taking time off. I told her as much when I rang her Friday.
“This is the place.” I step into a building, holding the door for Sam to follow.
“Where are we?”
“I need to pick up some papers from a friend of mine.”
We exit the lift on the fifth floor. The door reads “Sir John Weatherly”.
“Walt Nelson to see…”
“Get your arse back here,” my friend calls from his office door. Fitting his name is Weatherly, because he’s starting to look it. Too much booze and too many women.
We clamp hands before hugging.
“I must say, I was rather shocked to hear from you yesterday. This must be Miss Abbott.” He kisses the back of her hand. She laughs when he tries to kiss a little further up, and I bop him on the back of his head. Hard.
“Piss. That hurt. But I get it, I wouldn’t want anyone kissing my wife.”
“Oh, I’m not his wife,” Sam tells him before turning to me. When she does I’m on one knee, holding out the ring my grandfather gave to my grandmother. It’s modest at two carats, set on a simple gold band. Sir John is an arse, but an old friend. He’s slips out of the office, leaving us alone.
“Sam, you are my everything. I promise to never make you feel otherwise. I know I’ve been doing this backwards. Hell, we were a family before we were a ‘we’. But I know the difference now. I know that you are my priority. The girls are the love of our lives, but you’re my soulmate, and I promise to always treat you as such. Please spend the rest of our lives as my wife. Will you marry me?”
“Walt,” she says gently, and I see the reluctance in her eyes. The hesitation. But it’s not at my love or her love for me. It’s with her own demons. I don’t push. I just wait.
“Walt,” she starts again, lowering to her knees. “I promise my love to you. I promise to never make you feel less than. I promise to love you more than myself.”
“Say it,” I assert for the first time since she broke down.
“Yes. I’ll marry you.”
My hands encase the sides of her face, pulling her to me. My lips glide over hers in a kiss of love and adoration.
“We’ve been doing this backwards, Sam. We’ve been raising daughters and we never dated. You are a wonderful mother and I can’t wait to see the impact you will have on our girls, but this is about us. You and me. I want to marry you today.”
So, Sir John marries us in front of his secretary and an assistant. He pulled the necessary paperwork for us when I rung him yesterday. It helps to have friends in the right places.
When it’s time to exchange rings, I give her the simple gold band my grandfather wore until he died. She slides it onto my finger with a promise to be mine. Always and always. The same promise I made moments ago to her.
There’s soft clapping from his secretary when I kiss my bride. Even a tear. She laughs and hugs Sam as if she would her daughter.
“Your bride is beautiful,” Weatherly smiles. “I spoke with Finn. They just left New York. Go enjoy your wife while you can.” He smiles and for once, my friend has some good advice.
When we finally get back to the hotel, Sam is in a daze. “I can’t believe I’m married.” Sam stares at the ring on her finger. “I never thought this would happen for me,” she admits. “I love you,” she adds softly.
“I adore you,” I reply stripping out of my clothes.
Sam watches me with curiosity. “I think we need to wait,” she says quietly. I halt in mid air, my sock not even fully pulled from my foot. Are you kidding me? I’m not sure I have the ability to keep myself in check much longer.
Suddenly, she bursts into laughter. I narrow my eyes, furrowing my brow. “That is just cruel.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” She’s still laughing as she begins taking off her clothes. “You held out longer than I ever thought you would.” Her jeans drop to the floor. Her knickers close behind. “I really thought this morning I would be bent over in the shower as you took what was yours.” She drops her shirt and steps toward me.
“On your knees, husband. You have an apology to make.”
“But I said I was sorry. Last week. When I got here. We’ve moved on, haven’t we?” I grin.
“I never said I accepted it.”
“Well, you married me, so I’m kind of thinking you’ve forgiven me.” I say, lowering to my knees, “But let’s make certain.”