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Damn, he was fine, I thought, curling to my side, thoroughly loved and spent.
He went to my wardrobe, rummaged for a T-shirt, and threw it at me with a smirk.
‘Be back soon, gorgeous.’
He disappeared into the bathroom.
I caught the sound of the tap running as he cleaned up, then returned with a hot washcloth.
As he wiped me down, my eyes flicked over him and his naked beauty, adorned only by his silver neck chain that glinted against his honey-gold skin.
My heart lurched once more.
I’d never get enough of him.
He leaned in and kissed the corner of both eyes as he tossed the towel into the washing basket.
I pulled on my tee as he rolled into bed with me.
Late afternoon outside, the sun’s golden hour washed over us as he tugged me into his arms and tucked me under his chin.
We lay tangled in the sheets, our heartbeats slowing in unison as the room faded into twilight.
He kept his hand wrapped tight around my waist, refusing to let go even after sleep, as an immeasurable peace claimed us both.
Chapter 36
ANA
Deacon and I remarried a few months later in late summer on the Costa del Sol, where we found our way back to each other.
The timing was right.
We’d both put in the work to heal our baggage and build a rock-solid foundation, so we wanted all our loved ones in one place for a celebration.
‘Our last trip here was just effortless,’ I told Shalini as we went over the final schedule. ‘It’s where we reconnected. That kind of reset stays with you forever.’
We booked Villa de Alegría again for a few weeks for Deacon’s family, Christine, my mum, and the three of us.
My sister Lucia stepped in as our planner and secured the sweeping nearby mansion and wedding venue, the Hacienda María, for the principal event.
The estate sat right on the coast, with direct beach access, terraced gardens, and soft stone walls framed by ancient olive trees.
The four-day affair kicked off with a sun-drenched yacht trip across the azure water for our hundred guests.
We kicked the celebrations off with a casual dinner at the hacienda.
On my wedding morning, I woke early in the bridal suite to the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below.
The Mediterranean sun was out, warming the stone patio.
Drawn to the view, I drank a rich espresso on my balcony, nibbling on fresh figs and crusty bread as nervous excitement fluttered through me.
Staring out at that endless turquoise ocean, I was hit with immeasurable joy; I was remarrying the love of my life.
Despite all the heartbreak, my detour with Max, and the painful distance, my need for Deacon had never faded.
Not even a fraction.
