“Why?”
“Because I was afraid that if I did, the next time I’d open them you wouldn’t be here.”
“Thought I was going to love you and leave you, did ya?” I tease, sliding my hand along his rippled abdomen.
“More like I was afraid I’d wake up and realize it was all just a dream.”
“Maybe it was. Maybe you’re dreaming right now.” I turn my face inward and kiss his chest.
“Well, then I guess I better make the best of it.” He shifts so abruptly that I have no time to react. One minute I’m curled into his side, the next I’m on my back with Asher hovering above me.
“Don’t you think you should feed me first?” I smile at him as I squirm to break free of his grasp. Unfortunately since my left arm is still in a cast, I have limited mobility on that side and don’t have a chance in hell of overpowering him. Not that I could even without a broken arm.
“Oh I’ll feed you all right.” He narrows his gaze at me.
“Not what I meant and you know it.” I laugh, shaking my head at him.
He settles his weight down on top of me and drops his face into the crook of my neck. “But my way would be so much funner,” he whispers against my skin.
“Funner isn’t a word.” I laugh again.
“Damn, six years later and she’s still correcting my grammar.” He chuckles.
“Well if you didn’t insist on using words that don’t actually exist I wouldn’t have to,” I point out, loving how easy this all feels.
I’d worried that after last night things would feel awkward, especially given that we haven’t spoken about anything of any real significance since I arrived unannounced. But this feels anything but awkward. It feels good. More than good, it feels right. Like this is how things were supposed to be all along.
“Now, are you going to feed me or do you plan to lay on top of me all day and let me starve?”
“I vote for the second option.” He pulls back, smirking down at me. “Fine.” His smirk turns to a full smile when I give him a playfully evil glare. He presses a kiss to my forehead and rolls off of me, standing moments later.
I take a moment to appreciate his incredible body for all of ten seconds before he tugs on his boxers and slides his shirt over his head.
Sitting up, I pull the blanket up over my chest and tuck it under my arms to keep it there.
“You don’t have to get dressed to feed me,” I tell him as he snags his jeans from the floor.
“Unless you want me to go out naked I do.” He steps into his pants and pulls them up over his hips.
“Go out?” I question.
“Look around, B.” He chuckles. “Do you think I had time to go to the grocery store?”
“Oh, good point.” I throw my legs over the side of the mattress. “Let me get dressed and I can go with you.”
“No need. You stay here.” He finds one sock and then spins around twice, his eyes scanning the floor before finding the other. “The coffee shop is less than a block from here. I’ll run over and get us something.” He steps into his shoes seconds after getting his socks on.
“You sure? I don’t mind coming with you.”
“I’m sure.” He crosses the room, crouching down in front of me when he reaches the edge of the mattress. “I’ll be back before you know it.” He presses a quick kiss to my lips before straightening back up.
“You don’t even know what I want,” I call after him right as he reaches the door.
“Blueberry bagel if they have it, if not a cream cheese danish. Coffee, no sugar, extra cream.”
“You remember that?” I can’t help but be surprised that after all this time he remembers something as trivial as what I like to eat and how I take my coffee.
“I remember everything, B.” He gives me a soft smile before tugging the door open, disappearing outside moments later.
Deciding to take this opportunity to freshen up, I quickly climb from the bed, collecting my clothes off the floor as I head down the hall toward the bathroom. After dressing, I locate a tube of toothpaste and some mouthwash in a box on the floor.
I brush my teeth with my finger and gargle with a little mouthwash, instantly feeling better.
When I’m finished, I head back out into the living room, my gaze falling to the mattress laying sideways in the middle of the floor. Memories of last night hit me in waves.
The way we laughed and kissed. How we made love until the early hours of the morning. It was a perfect night. One of those nights that changes everything.
And it really did. I feel completely different this morning. My doubts and fears are still there, of course, but they’re quieter now. Drowned out by the sheer happiness I feel.
The kind of happiness that makes you want to dance around a room and sing at the top of your lungs. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t considering doing just that before quickly changing my mind. All I need is to be jumping around Asher’s apartment like a mental patient when he comes back.
Instead I decide to keep myself busy by emptying out some of the boxes he has stacked in the kitchen. Crossing around the bar that divides the kitchen from the dining and living room, I open the first box that’s stacked on top of two larger boxes, expecting to find dishes or pots and pans. Instead what I find are photo albums. At least a dozen of them. All different colors, shapes and sizes.
I can’t remember the last time I saw an actual photo album. So many people do digital these days that they’re almost non-existent at this point. This fact only makes me that much more curious.
I grab the one on top – a small black one with Australia written across the top. Flipping it to the first page, I smile when I see a picture of Asher standing in front of the ocean, a surf board propped against his hip. He’s sporting a deep tan and his blue eyes sparkle underneath the blazing sun. My chest instantly tightens.
I turn to the next page to find him standing a few feet from a kangaroo. I can’t help but wonder if he knew the person taking the picture or if it was some random person he asked.
I continue to flip through the album. There are pictures of the ocean, a sandy beach, a Kuala bear, among many other things. Some of the pictures Asher is in, others he’s behind the lens. And some of the pictures have little handwritten notes below them of where he was or what he was thinking about when the picture was taken. Like the one of a particularly beautiful sunrise – I knew when the sun peeked up over the horizon that you were with me – written next to it. I don’t have to guess to know he’s talking about his dad.
Turning to the last page, there’s only one picture unlike the other pages that have three or four. It’s of Asher’s feet in the clear blue ocean water, the waves rushing up past his ankles. But it’s the words he wrote next to the picture that sends my heart drumming inside my chest. Thinking of B. She’d love this view.
With a tight lump in my throat, I drop the album onto the counter and reach for a second. A larger one with Chile written across the front. Flipping it open, I find that it’s very similar to the first album I looked at, only it’s clear that Asher is a little older in these pictures. There are various pictures of people, landmarks, animals, sunsets, and mountains, to name a few. And again, certain ones have little notes written next to them.
And again like the last one, the last page has only one picture. It’s of Asher’s legs stretched out over the edge of a cliff, a magnificent view of the sea in the background. The only thing that would have made this moment more perfect is if she was here to share it with me is written to the side of the picture.
Tears flood my vision as I reach for another book. This one labeled New Zealand. Realizing very quickly that there’s a theme to each book, I immediately turn to the last page. Sure enough there’s a picture of Asher, his legs stretched out in front of him as he sits in what looks like a small fishing boat on a river. My gaze instantly goes to the words written next to it. Reminds me of the first time I took B out on the lake.
I quickly cl
ose the album and reach for the next. One after another, they’re all the same. The last image of every book is a picture of his legs or feet with some incredible view beyond. Every note is something about me. A memory, something I said, or just a simple ‘missing B’. Every. Single. Book.
I pick up the last one out of the bottom of the box and turn to the last page. Unlike all the ones before it, this one doesn’t have Asher in it at all. It’s of a beautiful waterfall that looks to stretch to the sky. Next to it is one small sentence – I’m coming home, B.
I stare at it for a long moment before flipping back to the cover. Iceland labeled across the front.
I’ve barely had time to process what any of this means when Asher comes strolling into the front door, two coffees in his hands and a bag of food tucked under his arm.
“Hey.” He smiles at me before his gaze falls to the various photo albums stretched across the counter in front of me.
Without saying a word, he closes the door and crosses the space toward me. Setting the cups and bag on the only open surface of the counter, he slides in next to me and looks down at the album in front of me.
“I took pictures of everything just like you asked me to,” he says, his voice low. “I wanted a way to show it all to you in perfect detail, so I placed the pictures in the order they were taken.” He flips open the book and looks through the first couple of pages before I feel his gaze on the side of my face.
“The last page,” I start, keeping my eyes on the photo album.
“Every picture is in order.” He stops me before I can finish my sentence. “Except the last one. The last picture in every book is for you. A place I thought you’d love. Somewhere that I felt extremely close to you. Something that reminded me of you.”
“Every album,” I say, finally turning to meet his gaze.
“Every album,” he confirms.
“But why?”
“Because you were there with me,” he says like it should be so obvious. “Every place I went, everything I experienced, everything I saw, you were right there with me. In here,” he says, lifting my hand and pressing it flat to his chest. “You were always there with me, B.”
“And the picture in this album?” I ask, gesturing to the one in front of us.
“I’m coming home, B.” His gaze goes to the book as he recites the words written on the last page, before looking at me again. “I don’t know how to explain it, but standing there that day I felt this pull. Something was telling me it was time. You were telling me it was time.” He smiles, sliding his hand along the side of my neck into the back of my hair. “It wasn’t coincidence that I came home mere weeks before you were supposed to marry another man. It was like you were calling to me. The universe was pulling me back to you before it was too late.”
“You told me you thought about me every day.”
“And I did, B. Every single day.”
“I thought you were just saying that.”
“I would never just say something for the sake of saying it. Not when it comes to you.”
“I didn’t think you were ever coming back. I thought you had forgotten all about me. But all this time...” I trail off when Asher presses closer in, his face an inch from mine.
“I never forgot about you, not for one single second. How could I? You mean more to me than anything in this entire world. You always have.” He leans forward, rubbing his nose against mine. “I love you, Blakely. I loved you then and I love you even more now. And I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you like I won’t let go. Because that’s one thing I will never, ever do again. I’ll never let you go.”
With that, his lips find mine.
Epilogue
Asher
Two years later
“I can’t believe this view.” Blakely turns her head to look at me through the open door of our hotel room.
“I told you.” I smile, joining her on the balcony that overlooks the ocean.
“It’s so beautiful here.” She turns back to face the water as I slide up next to her and drop my arm over her shoulders.
“I take it you approve, Mrs. Evans?” I kiss her temple and pull her closer.
“Oh I approve all right.” She leans into my embrace.
When we talked about places to spend our honeymoon there was only one place I wanted to go. It didn’t take much convincing to get Blakely on board. I think she’s wanted to visit here ever since the day I told her this was the place that brought me back home.
I had only been able to dream of the day I could bring her to Iceland. Actually being here with her, and as my wife at that, is more than I could have ever imagined.
Of course back then I didn’t realize what a rough road laid ahead. I think a part of me was hoping I’d walk back into town and B would be there to greet me with open arms. Clearly that is not how it played out.
At one point I was ready to accept defeat. I was ready to accept that I had lost her. Had it not been for one of her nosy, and very pushy friends, I very well may have. But in the end she didn’t need me there to stop her and I thank god every day that she chose me.
We didn’t get here overnight, but slowly we began to rebuild, and within a year we were stronger than we’d ever been. And it wasn’t just our relationship that flourished. The flower shop was booming and I had Ray’s up and running, with Mary leading the charge as my business manager. Everything in our lives had fallen into place.
I asked her to marry me on the old swing in her parents’ backyard exactly one year to the day that I returned. If I could’ve had it my way, we would have eloped the next day, but B wanted to take her time and do things right. And so here we are, ten months after I proposed – finally husband and wife, the way it was always meant to be.
“It’s everything I thought it’d be and so much more.” She turns in my arms, smiling up at me.
“Just wait. You haven’t seen anything yet,” I promise, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. “You about ready to get out of here for a while?”
“I don’t know. I think I favor this view the most.” She slides her nose against mine.
“Keep talking like that and the only thing you’ll see of this country is what you can see from this hotel room.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” she purrs.
“No, no it wouldn’t,” I agree, slowly backing her into the hotel room. I keep moving until the back of her knees hit the enormous bed sitting in the middle of the room. She goes tumbling backward, taking me down with her.
“I thought you wanted to get out of here,” she reminds me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
“Iceland can wait. Right now the only thing I want to look at is you.” I smile down at my beautiful wife.
“Then by all means, husband.” She lifts her face to mine. “Look all you want,” she whispers against my mouth before pressing her lips to mine.
Blakely
“Are you coming or what, slow poke?” I turn and holler back at Asher who’s several feet behind me on the hiking trail because he keeps stopping to snap pictures every few feet.
It’s been quite possibly the best week of my life. I love Iceland. I love everything about it. So much so that we decided to extend our trip by another week.
Mary has the restaurant covered and my mom agreed to handle the shop for another week. I think she’s happy to do it. It gets her out of the house.
Dad is overseeing the construction on our new home that we’re having built. And when I say overseeing, I mean he pops in at random times to make sure the workers are staying on task. I swear he’s been there more in the last week than Asher and I have combined in the six weeks since we broke ground.
“I don’t remember there being this much greenery the last time I was here,” Asher calls after me. “It’s incredible.”
I smile back at him before turning forward again, picking up my speed when I see a clearing in the trees ahead. I reach the end of the trail a good two minutes ahead of Asher and
the instant the waterfall comes into view I lose my breath.
It’s just as it looked in the picture, only even more beautiful. The sound of the water crashing at the bottom adds something that can’t quite be put into words, or captured in a photograph.
“Thank you,” I say quietly to the water while I have a second alone. “Thank you for sending him back to me.”
I know it sounds crazy, but as soon as I say it an odd sensation washes over me. Like the universe is acknowledging my gratitude.
“Wow,” Asher says as he steps up next to me. “It’s exactly as I remember.”
“It’s beautiful,” I agree, taking his hand and entwining our fingers together.
“Not a day goes by that I don’t think about this waterfall. About where I’d be had I never come here. Would I have gone home? Would I have stayed away until it was too late? Would I have lost you forever?”
“But you did come here,” I remind him. “And for whatever reason coming here brought you home to me. I don’t know about you, but to me that sounds like some divine intervention.”
“Come here.” He shifts, turning me so that we’re facing each other. “I love you so much,” he says, trailing the back of his hand down my cheek before sliding it into the back of my hair. The way he always does right before he kisses me. The way he’s always done.
“And I love you.” I lean forward. “Now until death, and maybe even after.”
“Maybe?” He cocks his head to the side.
“Well I mean, you never know. Maybe I’ll meet someone better in the afterlife,” I tease, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
“What am I going to do with you, Blakely Evans?” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“You can love me. Love me like you won’t let go.”
“Oh, I will. Until the day I die, and maybe even after.” He smirks, leaning forward to press his lips to mine.
The End
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