Page 123 of Thrones We Steal

“Because of your dad?”

I look up at him.

He motions toward my bracelet. “You rub it every time you think about him.”

“I wasn’t there,” I say. The nausea roils in my stomach.

“Where?” He brings me to a stop with a hand on my arm.

“The hospital. When he died.” I mumble the words, but the vision comes back anyway.

Henry stays silent and I venture a peek at his face. It’s lined with concern.

“I should’ve been. But I was angry. Angry at him, like it was somehow his fault he was dying.” Angry at you for leaving me at the lowest point in my life. “My mum told me to come, but I thought I had plenty of time. I thought—” The words get lost in the sea of emotions in my throat.

Henry pulls me into himself. “Hey, you couldn’t have known.” He rubs my back and the gesture is so sweet, so comforting, I nearly fall apart right there in the middle of the sidewalk.

Instead, I bury my face in his baby-soft T-shirt and remind myself to breathe. “Rosalind told me afterwards that he was asking for me. He wanted to say goodbye.”

His arms tighten around me as the grief tries to plow me under.

“He died while I was on my way into the city.”

“Oh, baby.”

He folds himself around me, and we stand there on a deserted street in London, oblivious to everything but the bubble that is us.

After a while, he pulls back slightly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most,” he says into my hair.

There’s no denying the firecracker of pain that whistles through my midsection before exploding with the rest. “You’re here now,” I say.

* * *

Our next stop is St Dunstan-in-the-East, the parish church mostly destroyed in the Blitz during WWII. It’s as breathtaking as the museum in its own way. The steeple soars above the blackened walls in eerie beauty. A curving stone path winds around the park and promises a better view to anyone who will walk its course.

It’s a scene directly out of a fairy tale—the harsh Gothic architecture softened by the lush garden surrounding it, horns beeping from the street mingled with birds twittering in the trees, the pungent odor of sewage swallowed by the crisp, clean air of nature. Two worlds combined into one idyllic oasis.

“Let’s take some pictures.” Henry sits and props a bent leg up in front of one of the immense arched windows. He pats the space between his legs, and I snuggle into the cocoon he’s created. The bill of his cap brushes the top of my head, and his arm is snug and possessive around my collarbone as he snaps selfies of us. We look like sun-kissed, love-drunk teenagers on holiday. I laugh out loud as he kisses that sensitive spot behind my ear, his thumb still tapping the shutter button. “Mmm, now we’ll have something to remember the day by,” he says into my ear.

I won’t need a photo. This day will be seared into my mind as the happiest of my life.

He slips the phone back into his pocket and wraps his other arm around to join the first, cradling me against his chest. A hint of black ink peeks out from the back of his upper arm. I turn it to see better. It’s the letter C in a calligraphic font, the tiniest hydrangeas twining around it. I trace the smooth skin with my thumb.

“I didn’t notice this one last night. What does it stand for?”

A throaty chuckle tickles my ear. “What do you think?”

“I don’t—” Realization spreads, a physical sensation through my nerve endings. “Oh. But— How long—” My words are cut off by his lips on my neck.

“A long time,” he murmurs against my skin.

The wind picks up and swirls fallen leaves and twigs around the small garden. The sparkly sunlight winks out, and a gray pallor takes its place.

“Come on. We’ve got one more place to see,” he says.

I’ve heard of backyard cinemas but have never been to one. When Henry ushers me through the first garden tunnel, it’s like stepping into another realm, one where everything is possible, even the crazy, explosive love ricocheting in my heart.

Evergreen boughs brush our heads as we walk, the scent of pine so heady it makes me lightheaded. Or maybe that’s the way Henry pulls me into a small alcove and kisses me like the world is ending, his hands cupping my face both gently and firmly.

---