She doesn’t say anything, but she looks up at me as I close the distance between us. “It’s so quiet here,” she whispers, glancing out of the open windows. “So peaceful. The birdsong is like music.” She looks back at me as I stand in front of her. Her eyes are very blue, like the sky behind her.
I slide my left hand to cup her face and brush her cheek with my thumb. “My wife,” I murmur.
She lifts her right hand and covers my hand with hers. For a moment I think she’s going to pull mine away, but she doesn’t. Instead, I realize she’s touching my wedding ring.
“My husband,” she says.
“All yours.” I lower my head and kiss her.
Her lips are warm and soft. She closes her eyes, and her breath mingles with mine as she gives a little sigh. She rests her hands on my chest, and then slides them up to my neck as I pull her close and wrap my arms around her.
“Oh! Sorry.”
Wren leaps back, and I turn and chuckle as Jacob delivers the cases with a grin.
“Apologies, I should have knocked first,” he says, and then he laughs as I go up to him and give him a bearhug.“Congratulations,” he adds. He moves back and smiles. “You’re far too young to get married. What are you, fifteen, sixteen?”
“Almost,” I reply with a chuckle. “Wren, this is Jacob Maxwell. Jake, this is my wife.”
“I can see how much you enjoy saying that,” he says, and he goes up to her and shakes her hand. “Hello, Mrs. Ashford. So nice to meet you.”
“Wren, please, and lovely to meet you, too.”
“Ruthie said I should tell you that I’ve recently refilled the hot tub.”
“Excellent, thank you.”
“If there’s nothing else, we’ll be off now. But please, call us if you need anything.”
We walk out with him and meet Ruth at the front door. She lets the dogs out and gives us a big smile. “I’ll be over tomorrow morning at eight to cook you breakfast and sort dinner out. But don’t feel you have to get up if you don’t want to.”
She gives Wren a mischievous smile. Wren immediately blushes scarlet.
I try not to laugh. “See you tomorrow.”
Jacob chuckles, picks up the pregnant dog and puts her in the back of the ute, letting the other one jump up, and he and Ruth get in. We wave goodbye, and the car sets off down the drive. Within a minute, the sound of the engine fades away, and all we can hear again is the breeze in the trees and the sound of birdsong.
I look at Wren and take her hand. “Come on. Let’s have some lunch.”
I take her through to the kitchen, open the fridge, and retrieve the rolls that Ruth made earlier and the packet of Squiggles. “She makes the best bread,” I advise. “What would you like to drink? Shall we open a bottle of champagne?” I peer around the fridge. Wren is standing there, biting her bottom lip.
“I was thinking,” she admits.
“Yeah…”
“Maybe we should just get it over with.”
The fridge door slowly closes.
“Sorry?” I say.
“The sex,” she replies.
I blink and say flatly, “We should get it over with.”
“Well, yeah.” She swallows hard, and then words come tumbling out. “I keep thinking about it, and I know you probably are too, and it feels as if it’s in the way, and I don’t think we’re going to be able to move on until it’s done, so I thought maybe we should just, sort of, do it.”
There’s a long silence.
