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Two crashing waves, changing the tides. The emotions and pleasure pulled from my body as we ride out the torrents together are fast and intense. But then, the wild current settles, and I settle in his hold. He stares at me with an intensity that claims me as his, declares me as his equal, and forges a promise of eternity. Exactly the way he looked at me the day we exchanged our vows.

I fling my arms around him, trying to draw him closer than we already are; him resting inside of me as our releases trickle down my thighs. “I love you,” I choke out, like if I don’t say it now, those three precious words will disappear. And perhaps they almost did. Because if I can’t whisper them to Tate, I don’t want to speak to them at all.

They are his, as much as I am.

“Hey, hey.” He hushes when my body trembles with more tears. “I know, baby. I’m here. We’re here.”

Tate maneuvers me so he can gently pull out. I protest with a disgruntled whimper when he stands. He strokes a finger down my jaw as he stands over me. “Let me clean up. Then we’ll sleep.”

He disappears into the en suite, returning a few minutes later with two glasses of water and a damp washcloth. With gentle movements, he wipes between my legs before carrying my boneless body over to the chaise lounge. He strips the bedding, flinging it into the empty laundry basket, before remaking the bed with frantic movements. I don’t complain that the pillowcases are inside out or that the bottom of the duvet is unbuttoned. We’re both desperate to return to the other’s arms.

Only when he curls himself around me do I relax. I press my face into the fresh sheets. His scent is gone, but I have the real thing beside me now.

He smooths down the bird’s nest on my head. “You really didn’t change them after I left?”

“No. I couldn’t. You slept in them last and I didn’t want to lose the reminder of you, not after everything else.”

Tangled limbs and racing hearts, we close our eyes. Just before sleep pulls me under, I wish we could stay like this forever. Tonight was a monumental step forward for us, but in the morning, I know we’ll have to face one final hurdle.

What happens when his time here is up?

For now, I cherish falling asleep into my husband’s arms for the first time in a long time.

I’m roused from the deepest sleep as featherlight touches skate up my bare spine. I crack open an eye, face half smushed into the pillow, and find Tate smiling at me.

“Morning.” His raspy voice skitters over my skin. He mustn’t have long woken, judging by his hazy eyes and the sleep lines printed on his left cheek. He looks boyish like this, and it warms my heart.

“Good morning.” I press my face into the downy softness, stretching out my limbs and reveling in the deep ache between my thighs. “What time is it?”

“Just after six. I still have you for another two hours before you start work.” He strokes a line from my nape to my tailbone. “You’re adorable when you drool in your sleep.”

I swat at him blindly before raising my head, and find him resting on the pillow opposite, our noses and mouths aligned as we lie side by side. The air pulses, thick with the unspoken, prophesying an arduous conversation.

Tate taps my ring as questions swirl in his head.

“You’re still leaving, aren’t you?”

His eyes answer before his mouth. “I am. I have to, the label⁠—”

“Needs you. You have another year left. I understand.”

“Do you?” He studies me closely, hand resting over mine. “Understanding is one thing, but can you accept it? When I leave, will everything we’ve worked on unravel the second I pass town limits?”

“I don’t think I can ever fully accept what happened last summer, but it happened, and I’m done holding onto the past.” I stare at where we’re connected, brushing my pinky along the inside of his wrist below his watch strap. “My only fear is what if they want to extend or ask for a third album or⁠—”

“I hate it.” His sudden admission slices through my words. He winces, as if he didn’t mean to say it, but continues anyway. “I fucking hate it,” he whispers hoarsely; regret rolls off him. “And I’m so sorry that I do, because it means the last year was for nothing. I hurt us for nothing. When I found out about the copyright lawsuit with Harriet, I asked Vanessa to see if she could get me out of my contract early, but there’s nothing.”

I allow the truth to sink in. Maybe I should be mad, but I spent so many months furious at him. I’m tired of it, and all I want to do is move forward.

I release a long sigh. “Am I upset you don’t enjoy it after everything? A little. Am I surprised? No…I don’t think I am.”

He frowns.

“You don’t act like a music star desperate to return to his fans and the limelight. I can’t remember the last time I saw you play your guitar. That alone speaks volumes.”

His chuckle is flat. “I should’ve known you’d see right through it all. I allowed the promise of money to blind me to what was already paved out in front of me.” He shakes his head, still angry at himself. “I’m so sorry you thought I didn’t love the life we’d built already. It wasn’t fair of me to make decisions about our future without your input. It won’t ever happen again.” He presses his lips into a thin line. “That is, if…”

I sense what he’s not asking.