AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It doesn’t take long to reach the house, but I can see Elena is struggling to stay awake. I have the urge to carry her inside, but I suspect she would protest.
Instead, I get out of the car and help her out of it. She’s really wobbly and I’m starting to wonder if she might have a concussion.
At the threshold of the front door, Elena stops, forcing me to come to a halt too.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice sharp.
“Nothing’s wrong.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Are you going to keep snarling at me?”
I’m worried.
I don’t tell her that though.
Instead, I say, “I’m not snarling.”
“You are.”
“Why did you stop?” I demand, irritated.
“Because it’s tradition to carry the bride over the threshold after the wedding.”
I stare at her, trying to fathom if she is joking or not. She doesn’t blink or shy away, just continues staring up at me.
“You’re serious.”
“Nah. I’m just kidding, but your face… Literal picture.”
I rub at my temple, feeling a headache starting to form. “Elena.”
“I’m not sorry,” she says, moving around me and stepping into the hallway. “Would it have been so bad to carry me into the house anyway?”
“Of course not.” I trail after her, feeling like the proverbial puppy. “Elena, if you want me to do it, I will do, but when you’re not bleeding.”
“Yeah, I guess we should deal with that,” she says, pressing her fingers to her temple. The bleeding has stopped, but I suspect that wound might need stitching to stop it from pouring blood again. “Which way’s the living room?” she asks.
“Which one? There are three formal sitting spaces.”
“Whichever is nearest, and one you don’t give a shit about getting blood on the carpets.”
I don’t care about that in any of them, but I gesture up the hallway to the door on the left. She moves towards it and twists the door handle before stepping inside.
This room is my most formal. It is decorated in soft greys and creams. There’s a large sectional in one corner and a TV that takes up most of the wall. Around the room are statement pieces of furniture, high quality and expensive-looking.
I watch Elena as her gaze moves around the room, wondering if the decor is to her liking.
“I meant what I said about moving if you don’t feel at home here.”
She turns to face me, her expression soft. “No, it’s fine. This is your home.”
“Outside of London, yes.”
“You have another inside of London?”
“I have an apartment that I use when I’m conducting business there.”
“But we’ll live here?”
“We can live wherever the fuck you want, Elena.”
