Page 96 of Embrace Me Forever

As she allows her tears to fall, I stand resolute beside her. It’s enough for now, enough that she knows she doesn’t have to face this alone.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I murmur close to her ear. These words, often withheld due to my own struggles, come easily today, imbued with the sincerity of the moment.

She lifts her head, her eyes meeting mine, a soft glow of appreciation in them despite the tears. “I’m okay,” she says, her voice sweet, touched by a tinge of relief. As I wipe away her tears, I see it. The genuine release in her expression, a burden lifted.

We complete the necessary paperwork, acutely aware that we must still wait for the remaining processes to conclude. But right now, my priority is Georgia-May. Her decision to view Sebastian’s remains may have more repercussions than we anticipated, but I’m going to be there for her no matter what.

The rain has eased into a drizzle, misting the air with a cool freshness. I open the passenger door of our rental car, shielding her as best I can from the residual droplets. She slips into the seat with a quiet thanks, and I can’t help but notice how the day’s toll has etched itself into the lines of her face. I shut her door with care and sprint to the driver’s side, the damp pavement slick under my shoes.

She’s silent as I start the engine, the sound of the ignition cutting through the rain’s soft patter.

Then she asks, “Can you drive me somewhere?”

“Of course.”

She directs me with small instructions. “Left here,” “Straight ahead,” “Slow down as you turn.” We are already deep in the rural landscapes of Oxfordshire, and her directions lead us further into a park nestled in the ancient woodland characteristic of the region. Towering beech trees and dense thickets of hawthorn surround us. The recent rains have left the undergrowth lush and verdant, the air filled with the scent of damp moss and the rich, earthy aroma of decaying leaves.

“I know the ground is sodden,” she says, her eyes scanning the path ahead. “But would you walk with me?”

“Only if the ducks promise not to laugh at my muddy shoes,” I quip, which earns me a hearty chuckle from her.

We walk on, following a trail that jags through the beautiful woodlands, the rich scent of rain-soaked earth filling our senses. Overhead, the canopy of ancient beech trees provides a natural shelter, their leaves whispering. The trail is lined with the vibrant greens of ferns and the occasional splash of color from wildflowers resilient enough to bloom in the damp coolness.

I grasp her, halting our progress. In the silent expanse of the forest, the hush grants me the chance to speak.

“Are you really okay?” I ask, searching her face for any sign of the strain she must be feeling.

“Yes,” she assures me.

Georgia-May shines in her steadiness. Her mental fortitude far surpasses my own. I shouldn’t doubt her. She is really okay.

We continue walking in companionable silence, the only sound the squelch of our boots on the moist earth and the distant calls of birds. The trail curves, and soon we arrive at a reservoir, its surface a mirror reflecting the gray sky above. A group of wild ducks paddles near the water’s edge, undisturbed by our presence.

“We should take Coco here later,” she suggests.

“Great idea!” I reply, taking her hand as we amble along, the foliage casting dappled shadows on our path.

“About Sebastian’s ring,” Georgia-May begins again, her voice soft with hesitation. “I’m thinking maybe I should—how do I put this—lay it to rest with him?”

I sense the turmoil behind her words. That ring is more than just metal and stone; it holds what she once held dear. Burying it with Sebastian will tear her apart, even if she won’t admit it. “Have you thought about passing it on to Coco instead?” I suggest with care.

Her expression brightens immediately. “You mean it?”

“Yes,” I assure her. “We’ll honor Sebastian with a proper burial. And when the time feels right, Coco should learn about his legacy.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re second best,” she whispers.

“That won’t happen. IamCoco’s father, and a ring won’t change that,” I say with conviction. “Nothing can alter that fact, not even biology. Only you have that power.”

“And why would I want to change that?”

I study her expression, noting every crease around her eyes and every curve of her lips, and I didn’t find any reason. Her smile then blossoms as she leans in, sealing her words with a kiss that feels like both a promise and a liberation.

“I’ve found the peace I needed,” she affirms as we continue our trek.

“So, no need for a visit to Belmarsh Prison then?” I jest.

She laughs, her eyes sparkling. “Bertram doesn’t deserve a nanosecond of our time!” she declares. “Although I’d love to tell him that none of what he’s experiencing now ever showed up in my algorithm.”

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