Brooks and I spent some time in Lake Geneva following our reconciliation. We’d decided, together, that the ring he bought me was a promise of more. We’d only just come together, so we didn’t want to rush into anything that would put greater pressure on ourselves. We wanted to just be. We wanted to enjoy one another in a way we hadn’t allowed ourselves to. We had over a decade of lost time to make up for, and we were hell-bent on doing exactly that.
We made love in our spot by our rock. It was messy and rough and, at times, downright thorny, but we were too caught up in one another to care.
We spent time reconnecting with his parents. They didn’t hesitate to welcome me back into their fold and were over the moon at Brooks’s obvious happiness. Because all they ever wanted was their son to be happy.
Following Lake Geneva, we began building a life around one another together. We compromised. We chose our destinations and, therefore, our next jobs together. It was far easier than either of us imagined it would be. In the beginning, I considered that we were too loved up to care where we were. But as the years passed and the ease in which we traveled continued, I realized it was because we’d both come to an understanding within ourselves that life without one another wasn’t worth it.
We began volunteering in the various countries we visited. Slicing out a large chunk of time to help where we could. We also put Derrick’s money to good use. We donated to orphanages all over the world. Providing the necessities we take for granted to children who were in need. It made Derrick’s estate meaningful to me. His money never belonged to me. I wanted what he had promised me was mine, his love. His money was meaningless. But we could take the positive in the situation, and that was that we could make a difference in the lives of children who really needed it.
Three years ago, I launched my own company. One I could manage from anywhere in the world. I hadn’t thrown myself into the best mixology courses for the patrons' gain. Or learned from every barkeep I came into contact with to just make a mean cocktail. Sure, I wanted to be good at what I did, but I always had a greater end goal.
I created my own line of mixers. Not the sweet, substituted brands marketed to college students wanting to get loaded. These were real. Perfectly crafted like the beverages you pay for in a swanky cocktail bar. All in the comfort of your own home.
I’d spent years of my life deliberating over the ingredients, making certain they were culminating. When I was convinced they were supreme, I agonized a little bit more. From there, The Rocks was born. A collection of mixers for cocktail lovers. Delicious sours, margaritas, sangria, and cosmos all at the tip of your fingertips. We’d even created a collection of edible florals; garnishes for crowning that faultless cocktail.
The Rocks blew up in the States. Brooks had a connection, albeit craggy, with a pop star he photographed once upon a time. When Brooks reached out asking him to drop The Rocks on his socials, he seemed more than happy to help me out. He referred to Brooks as a twat a lot for people who were supposed to be friendly, but I took his help gratefully.
“Hey, wife.”
I open my eyes, taking the steaming cup of coffee Brooks hands me. “Morning, husband.”
We were married yesterday. Nothing fancy. Nothing excessive. A courthouse, Brooks’s parents for witnesses, and the love we had for another. Over the years, my understanding of family has thankfully shifted. This, with Brooks, is what I’d spent the majority of my life without. Our loyalty to one another is unwavering. Our love was resolute.
It may have taken us both many years to embrace one another the way we were destined to, but our ending seems all the more sweeter because of it.
“You went to Caffeine Coma without me?”
Kissing the end of my nose, he settles along the end of the bed, sipping his coffee.
“I was watching you sleep long enough to move into psychopath territory. I decided to go for a walk to let you sleep. Tripp and Zoe were there. They passed on their congratulations.”
I frown purposely. “Was the baby with them?”
He smiles uncomfortably.
“Dammit,” I groan.
“Squirrel, they’re there every day. We’ll go tomorrow. You can gush over their baby boy until your heart's content.”
“Okay,” I give in.
“Okay, now that I’ve bought you coffee. . . you ready to let me fuck you?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m always ready for you to fuck me.”
“This is true,” he agrees solemnly. “You know, even after last night, my dick was hard all fucking morning.”
“You’re insatiable.”
“It’s not my fault you have a delicious pussy,” he says nonchalantly, placing his empty coffee cup on the ground before crawling on top of me.
Kissing me, he takes my coffee, sliding it onto the bedside table as his tongue strokes inside my mouth.
“Don’t even try to tell me you don’t love it.”
I smile against his lips. “I love you.”
“For keeps.”
I pull back from our kiss, looking into his eyes. “For always, baby.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Welcome to the part of our books where we try to thank everyone that made this book a reality in a few short paragraphs.
Read: Impossible.
We say this with every book we release into the wild and will continue to do so until the end.
Writing might be a lonely endeavor at times, but there is always a community of people ready to cheer us on and we couldn’t do this gig without them.
First and foremost this time around, OUR READERS. We feel a little emotional writing this… your unwavering support over the past twelve months has been a gift. We released one book in 2020. That’s it. ONE. But you stuck by us. You built us up on the days we
