The rain is heavy, everyone rushing from the church to the graveside under big black umbrellas that look like preternaturally large crows in the gloom, but when Max’s casket is lowered into the ground, the rain stops and bright winter sunshine dazzles the congregation.

We each throw a different flower into his grave.

Mum, a Primrose—the flower of eternal love.

Galen, a Gladiola—a symbol of remembrance.

Rhys, Larkspur—a desire for laughter.

And I add Gardenias—a symbol of children and family.

Max may not have been my father, and I may have resented him for a long time, but I also loved him, and he loved me.

He was, is, a part of my family and my heart aches that he only got to be with us for a short time.

While all the others leave, Mum, Galen, Rhys, and I stay. We huddle together until the sky opens once more.

“He’s telling us to leave,” Galen murmurs as the rain gets heavier.

“But I don’t want to,” Mum cries, her voice hoarse, barely audible through her sobs. “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I’ll never be ready to say goodbye. I miss him, Gal. God, I miss him so much.”

“This isn’t goodbye,” I vow. “This is until later. Goodbyes are only for things we can bear to lose.”

We carry the weight of Mum’s grief and lead her to the car. Once home, we tuck her weary body into a bed that still smells of the man she loves and stand watch until she falls asleep.

Rhys is making tea in the kitchen when I come downstairs, Erin sat quietly watching him.

They both turn to face me when I walk into the room, Rhys coming straight up to give me a hug.

“Tough day, Sis,” he says into my hair, his arms squeezing me tight. I nod against his chest before pulling back.

“I’ve made a fresh brew, fancy a cup? I can lace it with some of the good stuff from the bottom cupboard?”

He winks at me, knowing he’s offering up Max’s good whisky stash that he always thought us kids didn’t know about.

“Maybe later.” I go into the laundry room and grab my old wellies, dragging them over my socked feet and tucking in my jeans. “It’s stopped raining. I think I need a walk.”

“Okay, we’re gonna stay the night in my old room in case Mum needs anything.”

“Thanks, Rhys,” I say as I slip into my thick coat and open the French doors. “I won’t be too long.”

I know he’s followed me.

Branches snap, and leaves squelch under the soles of his boots, but he doesn’t announce his presence until he’s at my side.

We both watch the swollen brook as it rushes before us, neither of us speaking for a long moment.

“Why did you follow me?”

“You told me I could,” he answers simply.

The wind whips strands of my dark hair across my face, and I lift my hand to tuck it behind my ear.

“Did I?”

“Yes. You did. You said you’d be my flower.”

The warmth of his hand as it slips into mine sends shards of heat up my arm directly to my heart.

“I’m in love with you, Fflur.”

“Don’t say that now, not today.”

“Then when?”

I don’t answer.

“I told Dad about us before he passed. He already knew anyway, but I’m glad I shared us with him. It felt wrong to hide it anymore.”

I shiver, and Galen tightens his hold.

“He told me that he knew you’d rocked my world from that very first day. He said it was like watching the start of a campfire, small embers that soon grew into white-hot flames.”

He shifts towards me and tugs me until I follow suit.

“You are my flower, Fflur, and I’m sorry for everything I did that kept us apart, but like you said today, you can never say goodbye to things you can’t bear to lose.”

He leans in as if to kiss me, his lips a mere breath away.

“I can’t bear to lose you, Fflur. This is our time. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Time.

There’s that word again.

One that has an uncanny way of showing us the things, the people, that really matter.

A word you cannot get back once spent.

A word that has only one thing more precious than it.

Love.

“Can we try? Can we—”

“Yes.”

His lips find mine before the soft hiss of the final letter leaves my tongue.

We’ve been here like this before.

My childhood bedroom a witness to feelings we thought were wrong.

But we were wrong.

This. This is right.

When the door at his back closes, Galen clears the distance between us, his arms wrap around me, and we stand bathed in each other’s embrace—wrapped up in warmth, and hope, and love. We rock from side to side, Galen humming something softly against my neck. Sunshine And Life.

I lift my head from his shoulder and place the softest of kisses on the smooth skin behind his ear. Galen’s arms tighten, pulling me impossibly closer—as close as two people fully clothed can get.

Breaking apart slowly, his eyes find mine and, just like always, that arc of electricity passes between us.

We kiss.

We touch.

We grasp.

We pull.

We stumble.

But he never lets me fall.

The backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed, and we sink down onto it, Galen lying on top of me, his weight grounding me to the moment.

Shoes get kicked off. Clothes get removed and discarded, and the bed creaks and groans under us.

When not a stitch of fabric remains between us, Galen leans over me and kisses me long and slow, before pulling back to look into my eyes.

“This isn’t a one night deal, Fflur.”

“I know.”

“This is a forever deal.”

Then his warmth blankets me, and skin to skin we press and rock and grind and rub.

“Please, Gal,” I beg. “I need more.”

“I know what you need,” he whispers into my ear before nipping my lobe and sucking it into his mouth. I arch up, and his cock rubs deliciously against me, making me moan.

He releases me to fumble around on the floor for his jeans, and a moment later the crinkle of a wrapper echoes over the sound of my harsh breathing.

He takes his time, teasing me with his fingers, sucking on my sensitive skin, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

“I love you, Fflur,” he vows, the words spoken against my lips at the same moment he enters me with one long, deep thrust.

We both moan, and Galen doesn’t wait before he slides almost all the way out before pushing straight back in.

Again and again and again.

My nails scratch down his back and arms, and his hands hold me tighter.

My teeth nip at his lips, and his thrusts become harder.

My mouth sucks at his tongue, and his pace becomes frantic.

I convulse around him, calling his name. My inner muscles tighten around his cock, and he steals my breath with a kiss, thrusting so deep inside me that I don’t know where I end and he begins.

We crash over the edge together with a cry and a moan. Little grunts spilling from his lips as he rides out the last of his release.

Then his weight cloaks me once more, pressing me into the bed, my limbs like jelly, his cock still twitching inside me.

“Sorry, I’m crushing you,” he laughs and slips out of me, rolling to the side and gathering me in his arms.

With my head on his chest, his voice is a low rumble.

“I love you, Fflur,” he declares once more. “No more hiding or doubts, no more hurting, and no more days apart. I can’t live like that. I wasn’t living at all.”

I push up onto my elbow and look down at the man I’ve loved almost half my life.

Lawn green reflects bright blue, no doubt in his eyes, no questions, no hesitation or uncertainty.

“Let’s live, Gal,” I say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Let’s live and laugh and tell inappropriate jokes at the worst times.” Another kiss on his forehead. “Let’s travel the world, pick wildflowers on every continent, make joyful music, and songs of us.” A final kiss to the centre of his lips and his tongue traces mine for the briefest of moments, just a taste of the rest of our lives. “Let’s blow wishes on the wind and try to make them a reality. Let’s see beauty where others see weeds.”

“We will, Fflur,” he vows. “I promise.”

“I love you, Galen.”

“I know you do,” he whispers, gathering me up and tugging the sheets over our bodies. “My Fflur, my every flower and the definition of all that’s good in my world.”