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She’s a beacon of light—a blinding and unwavering force that I can call my own—call my home. I’m addicted to her calm and madly in love with the fire she brings. It has cauterised my internal wounds, healing me from the inside out until the only thing I can feel is her.
Her eyes swivel to meet mine, sensing I'm looking at her. Her cheeks flush, and her lips twist in a way that I only witness when she is looking my way. “Thank you for inviting my parents. It will be good to have them visit in a few weeks. I think they are happy to be shot of me,” she drawls, amused, sliding sunglasses perched in her hair down onto her nose.
“They want you to be happy.”
“They do.” She sighs, rolling her neck to stare as the familiar streets rise above us. Perry should already be back in London by now, and I’m hoping he has picked up my message about dinner. I know Amberley and Matteo are free later. I want to surprise Lauren, bring us all back together, and make her first night extra special. I’m not the only person she has missed.
“And are you?” I find myself asking, even though I know the answer as surely as I know myself.
Lauren smiles warmly at me intimately. “I am. Very.” I lift our threaded fingers and kiss hers. “Tell me about this house. You grew up there?” she asks, shifting to face me. My hair drops forward, and she leans to sweep it back. “How does it feel to have it back?” Her attentiveness never fails to make me feel centred. It’s an unmatchable power when you’ve lived a life of hate and hurt.
I sigh deeply. How does it feel?
Until I get her there, I can't answer that.
“I did,” I confirm. “My father bought the place when I was a small boy. Securing it feels good. But it’s not home. Not yet.” I wink at her, and she bites her lip. “I expected to feel elated when Royce was sentenced, to be calm, satisfied, smug even, when I won it all back.” I shrug, changing gear and shaking my head. “I couldn’t. I was hurting too damn much, and maybe, had we never met, I might have felt like that, but I just wanted you back. So, ask me again when you’re waddling around with your belly swollen with our baby and a ring on that finger, and I'll tell you how I feel.” I lay out my intentions as clear as day. My eyes convey my thoughts. I want it all, Lauren. Everything.
The proverbial picket fence, the big house, and family. Happy kids and a beautiful wife. I want everything that was ripped from me.
Her breath catches, and she swallows slowly. “Those are some serious plans, Mr,” she says softly, her eyes widening, but the twinkle of hope in them has me pulling her fingers back up for another kiss.
“Do you have a better one?” I muse, indicating down my street and rolling to a stop just before the high gates. “Because when I get you behind those gates, I plan to be either inside or next to you at all times. You’re my end goal.” My thumb runs over her ring finger, and she watches, fascinated and like me, picturing life past the pain.
“Your plan has potential,” she teases, leaning to run her hand up my thigh, and I grip it as Kat pushes out the main gate. She stops short when she clocks us, and her face breaks into a surprised but tense smile.
“Lauren!” It’s the first burst of emotion I've witnessed from my sister in some time. Lauren shoots me a concerned look. Kat is carrying a black cloud around with her, and, despite her cheerful manner, it shows in how she conducts herself and the vacant look in her eyes.
“She’s struggling,” I say subtly as Lauren reaches for the handle, but I lower the window because I want to drive her through the gates.
“Hi, Kat.”
“So you're back?” The clipped tone has Lauren’s shoulder dropping in hurt. I grip her thigh and narrow my eyes at my sister, who has spent most of her time glowering at us all. She’s not been the same since our mother slapped her, but even more so since her father was arrested and their lies broke out into the world, disabling everything she once knew. She’d disappeared within herself. I don’t know how to reach her because she now has her own demons to fight. I’ve eradicated mine and delivered them to her door.
I’ve broken a fundamental part of her, and I haven’t a clue how to get it back.
“Yes,” Lauren says slowly, clearly put out by Kat’s rude welcome.
“Good.” Kat nods and then steps back to allow me through as the gates finally open all the way, and Lauren can see Carson Court set back in the drive. “I’ve got work. See you later.” Dropping her head, she walks down the street, and Lauren watches her go, confused.
“Don’t take it personally. She is angry at everyone. She’s hurting.”
“She lives with you?”
“With us. I should have said. It’s her home too. I couldn’t ask her to leave.”
Lauren nods, watching as my sister's hunched shoulders move away from us. “Do you think she’s worried it will change now I'm here?” She twists to look back at me. Her lip is sucked into her mouth, where she chews it in worry.
“Hey,” I tug her lip free. “No. She is out more than she is home. It’s no longer the place we both grew up to love. It holds as many bad memories as it does good. For us both,” I affirm as Lauren works her hands in her lap. “Nothing feels normal to her right now, and she despises the place as much as she needs the refuge. I’m hoping, in time, she finds herself again.”
Lauren hums in agreement, clearly unsure and worried about Kat’s mental state. I squeeze her hand, trying to pull her back to the now, to us, and her face twists until she is staring at the colonial mansion.
“It’s stupidly big,” she scoffs, caught off-guard by its size.
I can’t help but laugh at her tone.
“So, this is home?” She is equally in awe as she is shocked. I nod, crunching over the drive and pulling up out front beside Deeks’s car. “How do you even fill a place this big?” she asks, seemingly confused.
“You don’t like it?” I laugh, uncertainty lacing my tone as she leans to peer up at the building. The white columns are as thick as trees. The colonial roof and wrap-around, a stark dark grey slate against the light wash walls.
