Page 128
I’m on the move, sprinting toward the front of the house and bursting through the door on my mission to get to him. I come to a halt about fifteen feet in front of him. His suitcase and guitar case are discarded on the path.
“You’re home.” My voice carries over the spray of water.
His happiness spreads wider across his face. “I’m home.”
My cheeks stretch with delight. “Is this your version of rain?”
He smirks at the hose aimed at the ground before turning it skyward. The water shoots up before cascading down on him, soaking his T-shirt and hair. “I had to make some modifications. This seems pretty accurate.”
“Accurate to what?” I step closer, the spray hitting my bare feet.
He blinks away the water sluicing down his face. “The day I vowed a lifetime to you.”
He’s recreating our wedding day. I stare at him, worried if I blink he’ll disappear. But he’s here, standing in front of me, soaked to the bone, just like he was ten years ago.
The sunshine catches the mist at just the right angle to create a rainbow above our heads. Tate moves closer, less than five feet away, the water falling down on me now.
“The songs.” I press my palm to my chest. “They’re beautiful.”
“You listened to them.” He laughs softly, taking another step forward. “My timing is pretty impeccable, huh?” Tate reaches out and taps my nose three times. “I’ve always dedicated my songs to you, even when you weren’t watching. It seemed about time I wrote an album about my one and only muse. Started writing it the year we moved here.”
“Tate, I’m so—”
He shakes his head. “No more sorrys. We’ve met our quota, and I’m not angry. I get it. I’m just hoping to dance with my wife on our anniversary.” He holds his free hand out to me. “What do you say?”
I stare at his open palm, frozen in place. Not in hesitation, but from bone-shaking love and relief. He’s here. He came home. And even if his visit is for the duration of our song, we spent today together.
Linking my fingers with his, he tugs me close, our wet clothes slapping together when our chests meet. The kiss, god, the kiss he greets me with is searing, making up for all the ones we missed out on.
We’re breathless when we pull apart, the artificial rain still pouring over us. His hands skim over my body, as if to check I’m really here, and I do the same, tracing the contours of his shoulders and back.
Tate pauses when he reaches the tops of my arms and fiddles with the protective film on my left bicep. “What’s this?”
I bury my head in his neck. “Later. Let’s stay like this for now.”
And we do. Tate discards the hose, sending a spray of water through the air, and wraps me in his arms. He hums low in his throat, and I whisper the lyrics against his thrumming pulse.
This life, next life, all our lives
They’ll find our love in every timeline
Through thick and thin, I’m all in
And don’t you ever doubt it
We’re timeless, lasting through the ages
FIFTY
TATE
Talia shivers as I run a towel over her body, skin covered in goose bumps. We’ve stripped down to our underwear, standing in the bathroom as we dry.
I can finally breathe again with her in my arms. It wasn’t being apart from her cutting off my oxygen; it was the idea of not knowing when I’d be able to hold her like this again. Weeks, months potentially, until the label would give me enough time to make a trip home.
She stares up at me, thick lashes fanning her rosy cheeks. “How long do we have?”
It takes all my strength not to blurt everything out at once. “Why don’t you tell me about this first?” I stroke the inside of her arm. It’s obviously a tattoo, but I can’t make out what it is behind the protective film.
