I look up at him, staring into the clear, brown eyes that haven’t been bloodshot a single time since he came back and trailing down over the face that hasn’t been flushed and bloated from alcohol at any point over the last two months and I’m certain he’s telling the truth. I run my hands over the stubble on his face and my heart stutters when he smiles at me and I see his dimples peeking through the facial hair.

“I’m proud of you,” I tell him honestly.

He shrugs. “I’m kind of proud of me, too. It’s nice not having a cloudy brain all the time and being able to see what’s right in front of me and how important it is that I stay sober.”

Leaning forward, I press my lips to his.

“Are you thinking clearly right now?” I whisper against his lips.

His smile widens and he closes his eyes. “The thing I’ve NEVER been more clear about is how much I love you, how much I need you and how I don’t ever want to be anywhere else but right here with you.”

I hear voices outside and footsteps on the porch. Fisher and I break apart and scoot a little away from each other as guests start filing into the inn, laughing and talking about how much fun they had down at the beach. They wave at us as they walk past and head towards their rooms.

“I should probably head back to Trip’s,” Fisher says quietly. “You probably have a lot of stuff you need to do around here.”

Pushing myself up from the floor, I hold my hands out to him and help him up.

“It can wait until tomorrow. Stay,” I tell him.

Now that I have him back, now that we’ve battled most of the demons living inside of our heads and our hearts, I don’t want to let him go.

He leans down and kisses me quickly before pulling back. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I turn and pull him through the sitting room and towards my living quarters. Tugging him into the small bathroom, I turn on the water in the shower to get it warmed up. We undress each other slowly and step under the spray of the hot water together. Fisher takes his time running a bar of soap over my body and I sigh in pleasure when he turns me around and massages my scalp with shampoo. After he rinses it out, he drops to his knees on the porcelain and gently turns my hips, sinking his mouth between my legs. He takes his time licking me and tasting me until I clutch onto his hair and beg for more, my hips thrusting quickly against his mouth. His fingers immediately join his lips and his tongue, pushing inside of me and rocking slowly in and out of my body. After so many years of pleasuring me and learning my body, he knows exactly what to do, where to touch and how to move his hands and his tongue to drive me insane. I’ve missed this so much that I almost start to cry when I feel my orgasm rushing through my body. I’ve missed having someone who knows me so completely and loves me so fully. I come quickly with a shout, my head thumping back against the tile wall as the water beats down against us and Fisher hums his pleasure against my sex.

While I pant and calm my racing heart against the wall, Fisher turns off the water and pulls me out of the shower, wrapping us both in towels from the shelf above the toilet. We walk hand-in-hand into my dark bedroom and shed our towels onto the floor before curling up under the covers on my tiny bed. Our bodies are pressed together so tightly that I’m surprised either one of us can breathe. The warmth of his arms and the thump of his heart beating against my own lulls me quickly into the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in over a year.

Chapter 34

Fisher

Present Day

Before I know it, July has flown by, as well as August. I’ve found my place back on this island and with Lucy, but something still feels off. I’m keeping busy with more furniture orders than ever before and I help Lucy out at in inn when she lets me. We’ve been spending as much time together as possible and it feels like we’re dating all over again. We go to dinner, we hold hands and go for long walks on the beach and we curl up and watch movies, just like when we were married. Everything about it feels so right, but something still feels wrong.

We haven’t had a deep, heart-to-heart talk since the night of the Fourth, but we’ve been working our way through our issues and dealing with the hurts of the past one day at a time. I’ve told her I love her countless times, but she never says the words back. I know she doesn’t completely trust me, I can see it in her eyes, but I don’t know what else to do to convince her that I’m not going anywhere and I would rather die than hurt her again. The giant elephant in the room is the yellow cottage at the edge of town that sits there dark and locked, waiting for the happily married couple who used to live there to come home. I spend the night at the inn in her living quarters practically every night, even though there’s nothing I’d rather do than take her home. To our home, to start over and begin a new life together. I don’t want to push her into something she’s not ready for, but I don’t know how much longer I can live my life in standstill without moving forward.

I know there’s something she’s holding back, something she’s not telling me. I see it every time we talk and feel it every time we make love. There’s almost a desperation about her that I’ve never seen before. She clutches onto me tighter, begs me for more and tries to hold back her tears, but I see them every time, even though she does her best to hide them. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong and I don’t know how to fix things. I know things will never be perfect between us, no relationship is, but it’s almost like she’s picking fights with me just for the hell of it. She pushes my buttons and says things that tick me off and it’s like she’s just waiting for me to explode, waiting for me to push her away and say hurtful things to her like I did before. I make sure to keep my anger in check and calmly reason with her about whatever stupid thing she wants to argue about, regardless of whether it’s the fact I left the cap off the shampoo bottle or I forgot to lower the toilet seat. I do everything I can to prove to her that I’m not going to fly off the handle like I’ve done before, but all it seems to do is piss her off more.