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My pulse picks up in my temples and I try to be reasonable. “I understand. But you’ll have to compromise.”
“I don’t compromise,” Dacre snaps and I flare out with my hands. Pulling my fingers through my hair, I cross the street when the stoplight turns green and something rebellious snaps in me because he just doesn’t get it.
Dacre’s never been under the microscope the way I have. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have people judge you for wearing the wrong shade of foundation or because you don’t speak a third language.
It’s easy for him. He doesn’t care about what anyone thinks.
“Please let’s just do this my way...,” I plead, trailing off when Dacre turns white in the face.
“Watch out!”
My breath punches out of me when Dacre lunges, shoving me out of the way and I scream when the car slams into him, lifting him in the air and he falls on the hood before rolling down on the ground. He lays there lifeless and I sway before crying,
“Dacre!” Tears stream down my eyes as I go to my knees beside him and take his face into my hands. “Please...I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...”
His lids flutter, his gaze struggling to focus. “Don’t cry, princess.”
But of course I’m crying. He could’ve died because I refused to hold his hand! Because I cared about what people would think! None of that matters anymore. The only thing that matters is Dacre and I squeeze his hand and I’m relieved when I hear sirens in the distance.
“I won’t ever leave you,” I whimper. “I’ll always love you and I don’t care who knows. I want to walk by your side, Dacre. Forever. I’ll do anything for you. Just please don’t die on me.”
A pale smile curves his mouth and he coughs. I dry off the blood running down from his temple with my cloak and struggle not to sob. “Don’t move”, I plead when he fidgets but he ignores me and pulls off one of his skull rings and threads it on my ring finger.
“Marry me,” he groans as he’s getting paler and paler. “Fuck just say yes, or I may not survive this.”
Gasping for air, I panic and slant my lips over his. “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, yes...I’ll marry you.”
Cupping my neck he kisses me back and I don’t care about the people watching. We don’t have anything to hide. Our love is perfect. Beautiful. And nothing’s allowed to come in between us.
And nothing ever will.
EPILOGUE
Dacre-TWO YEARS LATER
Fancy tea room. What the fuck am I even doing in a place like this? Oh yeah...Greta. She insisted I come and spend time with her and some couple she wants to introduce. She claims we don’t do enough couple activities.
I happen to disagree. We do plenty. Just that they’re usually constricted to the four walls of our soundproofed bedroom.
“What were their names again?” I ask and Greta scowls at me.
“The Bosworth’s,” she reminds me, “and Dacre please don’t do that...”
I freeze with the whiskey I was about to pour into the tea. “What?”
Rolling her eyes, she sniggers and rocks our son in his stroller. “You’re being bad.”
“Do you care?”
She shrugs. “Not as much as I used to.”
That’s definitely true. After that damn freak accident, Greta’s whole perspective changed. She visited me at the hospital every single day, fed me fresh and organic food, conceived a child with me and kissed me in front of everyone.
Greta’s still my uptown girl but she’s completely mine.
Not even our parents were allowed to say anything. She fought for our relationship with the fierceness of a kitten that just discovered her claws. Slapping me on my thigh she excitedly breathes,
“There they are.”
