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“You got me a museum!” she shouted as the papers went everywhere but she didn’t care. No, all she cared about in that moment was wrapping her arms around me and crying happy tears into my neck. My skin absorbed every single one like some soothing balm that was still healing the ragged edges of my soul that her leaving me had left behind. But slowly and surely, day by day, I would wake to find her still there with me and it would start to mend, filling me with ease that she was going nowhere.
That she loved me.
That she was still my wife and…always would be.
“Amelia, baby,”I cooed after needing to clear my throat just so as I could speak past my own emotions, now cradling her head to me and seeing the affectionate looks her family were all giving us.
“You bought me a museum!” she shouted again, and once more the tears started making me chuckle into her hair before kissing her forehead.
“It’s all you asked me for,” I told her, making her hiccup a strange sound, before telling me,
“No, I asked for Lego too, and you got me that as well!” she cried again, making me grin against the side of her head.
“Baby, don’t cry,” I told her, finally making her pull back so as she could look at me. Then she framed my face with her still shaking hands and said,
“You bought me a museum, how can I not cry? It’s the best day of my life! Oh… apart from our wedding, so this is second best.” I laughed at this and hugged her to me.
“Thank you, Lucius… a million times, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, my Khuba.”
After this sweet, tender moment between us, the rest of the festivities commenced. Even her parents had offered me their thanks for making their daughter so happy. Something I didn’t need to hear, but was nice all the same.
But these festivities included a Christmas dinner feast and I had to laugh, as all throughout it, Amelia was still asking me questions about the building I had bought ready to be turned into her museum. A building that was in Munich, meaning that most of our time would now be spent at Transfusion, which she didn’t seem to mind at all. It actually helped ease my worry when she told me,
“As long as you are there, I will be happy anywhere.” It had been said as such an absolute, such a definite, like this was so very obvious, it took me aback. Especially considering she had been casually eating at the time and my reaction made her drop her fork and knife with a clatter as I took her face in my hands and kissed her before she could take another mouthful. A dinner that, despite being delicious, was even better tasted on Amelia’s lips.
Of course, I hadn’t cared that this caused everyone to stop mid-conversation, no doubt now questioning what had caused such a reaction from me. I cared for nothing other than my gorgeous, perfect little Khuba, my sun, my Fated…my wife.
Fuck me but how I loved to call her this. Like the pinch I needed to remind me that it was all still true. That this wasn’t just some perfect dream I would cruelly be woken from. That she was finally mine and nothing could ever change that.
As for her gift, I had shown her the plans I’d had drawn up for the project, telling her that as soon as we were home, we would set up all the meetings so we could get work underway. She would need to speak to the project manager, as well as the building company, the architect and the interior designers who would also be working on the build. She seemed more and more excited the more I talked about it, and not fazed by all the work ahead of her in any way.
Once dinner was over, she took some calls, one to wish her friend, Wendy, a Merry Christmas, promising to see her again soon. The other had been to her uncle Vincent and aunty Ari, who were away from Afterlife at the moment, for reasons unknown to me. But as soon as Amelia was back by my side, I had to laugh at the next question from her mouth.
“What are we going to call it?” At this I pulled her closer to my side and chuckled before kissing her. She was so fucking cute!
Hours after this and when the carved ornate grandfather clock was chiming twelve times, I found myself carrying my exhausted little wife back to her childhood room. My wife who had clearly had too much excitement and too much sugar for one day, as she didn’t even stir when I finally laid her down on her ridiculous bed.
I, at the very least, took off her shoes, and covered her with a blanket, knowing that trying to get her naked right now would only wake her up. So, I decided to wait for this until I was joining her, but first I wished to speak with her father on a matter and thought there might not be another time better than now. Not considering his own wife had called it a night moments before I had carried Amelia to her juvenile bedroom. Dom had told her that he would join her soon, which meant I knew exactly where to find him.
“Let me guess, she passed out after too much sugar?” Dom asked the moment I entered his office. I couldn’t help but grin when I saw that his office had not managed to escape his wife’s Christmas madness as this space was yet another casualty. Even his fucking desk had tinsel around it.
“I take it this happens every year?” I asked in response to what sounded like an educated guess.
“Every year of her life,” he replied, making me smirk as he handed me a glass of Cognac, and I recognized the signature bottle. The Louis XIII de Remy Martin, Rare Cask Grande Champagne Cognac, despite having such an annoyingly long name, was well known as being one of the best. It was also one of the most expensive, and the brand could easily boast as being an authority on this type of brandy. For starters, the spirits within this bottle were aged from forty to over hundred years. Meaning it was nice to see him breaking out the good stuff.
“This also happens at home. Thank the Gods she is no longer mortal for I fear that her teeth would not have lasted much beyond forty.” He laughed at this before agreeing with me.
“Her mother has the same sweet tooth, and one I confess to indulging in, as well as I did with Amelia when she was a child and even at the fear of enduring Keira’s wrath.” I scoffed at this.
“I don’t blame your apprehension at doing so, not after witnessing the feared and famed Christmas menace for myself.” At this Dom threw his head back and laughed, sipping back his brandy after saying,
“Fuck but how I do love my fearsome wife!”
“As for mine, she is resting peacefully, looking adorably cute.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I could tell that I had surprised him. However, I just shrugged my shoulders and told him in an unapologetic tone,
“And yes, before you say anything, I am most definitely aware that I am going soft, now ask me if I give a fuck.”
