Page 127 of Lassoed Love

“Thank you, Xav. For everything,” she sighs. “I love you so much.”

I tighten my embrace, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. “Always, baby. I love you more. Rest now. I’ve got you.”

As Isla’s breaths ease into a steady rhythm, the room settles into a cosy quiet—only the soft sounds of our breathing present in the room. As I lie here, enveloped in the afterglow of our post-orgasmic haze, my mind drifts back to the day Isla re-entered my life. It was a twist of fate, an unexpected turn that brought her back into my world. If Duchess hadn’t fallen ill that day, leading me to the clinic and into her presence, our paths might not have crossed again. Perhaps, someday, in the vague future, but notthen.

In that rushed, hectic moment, she became everything. Since that day, Isla has been a constant presence in my thoughts, a force that refuses to be ignored. She recreated the chaos she stirred in my high school days, but this time, it was different—more profound, more intense. Isla effortlessly upended my world at a time when I least expected it, and now, lying here, I can’t help but marvel at the unpredictable beauty of our journey.

She came back into my life, sweeping me off my feet in a way I never expected—a dance of fate, alassoed lovethat roped us together against all odds. And she’s mine now.

Forever.

Epilogue

Two Months Later

Christmas Eve has arrived, casting its enchantment over our ‘annual’ dinner, though this year it bears a bittersweet tinge. Around the table, the familiar faces of Bradley, Harrison, Michael, Isla, Imogen, Olivia, Amelia, and Mum and Dad sparkle with festive joy. Claire, Isla's urban-dwelling best friend, is the lone absentee, entangled in work commitments. Our gathering is animated with lively chatter, punctuated by the comforting presence of Buddy and Luna, nestled by our sides.

Amidst the festive air, my thoughts drift back to the recent loss of Isla’s father, recalling the profound impact it had on her. In the weeks following the funeral, Isla was consumed by inconsolable grief, withdrawing from the world and even shunning my comfort at times, which shattered my heart. She endured days where she refused food and company, convinced she couldn't bear the pain. Through it all, I remained a steadfast pillar of support, unwavering in my devotion toher. I witnessed her struggle, her good days, and the moments when she felt utterly defeated.

I knew that unless one has experienced a loss like Isla’s, they couldn't truly comprehend the depth of her sorrow. The mere thought of her father brought waves of emotion crashing over her, rendering her unable to visit her childhood home. But I never pushed her, understanding that healing takes its own time. And slowly, with our unwavering support, Isla began to emerge from the shadow of grief, stronger and more resilient than ever before.

Even amidst her own grief, Isla helped organize Bradley’s birthday celebration at home, marking that old fucker's twenty-ninth birthday. We decided to avoid going out anywhere, considering what had happened the last time. Phew!

Olivia has been planning this since back in September. She’s gone all out this year, with decorations on every part of the house, both inside and out. Our tree is decked out in ornaments and fairy lights. Isla and I helped her with this, although it was more like we were forced to do it, much to our initial dismay. Surprisingly, we ended up having fun.

The house feels warm and inviting, filled with the scent of Christmas spices and the sound of laughter. As we sit around the table, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company, I can't help but feel grateful for these moments of togetherness.

Harrison chuckles, “Remember that time Michael tried to cook Christmas dinner and set the kitchen on fire?”

Michael rolls his eyes. “It was one small fire, and Ilearned my lesson. Besides, I’m much better at telling stories than cooking.”

Olivia and Imogen giggle, their faces glowing with mirth. “I still can’t believe you thought salt was sugar,” Olivia teases.

I smile as I recall this memory; it was around three years ago, when the boys had come for dinner and tried to help mum out with the cooking. It ended up being more of a disaster than a help, but we all had a good laugh about it afterward.

Mum chimes in, “Yes, that was quite the adventure. But we managed to salvage the dinner in the end, didn’t we?”

Dad adds, “And it made for a memorable Christmas, that’s for sure.” His response catches me off guard. He’s really stepping up, especially with Isla, and it fills me with joy. Isla hasn’t just changed my world; she’s brought so much warmth and happiness to everyone here, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I’m so proud of her.

Isla squeezes my hand under the table, and I’m flooded with warmth and affection for her and everyone else gathered around. This is the essence of Christmas—being together, sharing stories, and crafting memories that will endure for years to come.

After dinner, we settled into the cosy living room—the excitement of Secret Santa filling the air. Outside, the cicadas were singing their evening song, while Olivia’s phone pumped out Christmas tunes from the kitchen speaker. We’d all gathered—me and Isla on the recliner,Harrison and Michael lounging on the couch, and Imogen giving Harrison the evil eye for something he said. That guy’s mouth has a mind of its own, no filter whatsoever.

Olivia couldn’t contain her enthusiasm and tore into her gift first, revealing a limited edition series of her favourite books.

“Oh, I saw them and I had to get them for you, Liv,” Mum had confessed, earning a playful scolding from Olivia.

“Mum, you’re not supposed to say who you got the present for, ugh!”

The rest of us eagerly followed suit, unwrapping our gifts with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Bradley ended up with Michael, Harrison got me, and Liv got Bradley. Imogen, well, much to her dismay, got Harrison. With her trademark smirk and a glare pointed towards Harrison, we all watched him open his gift—unwrapping a Comedy 101 book, which left everyone in stitches.

Amelia’s gift to Imogen and Isla’s thoughtful present for Mum were both hits, eliciting smiles and laughter all around—Isla surprised everyone by getting Mum a limited edition cookbook she had found online.

Then there was my gift—luck had it that I got Isla. From the moment her name popped up on the spinny wheel thing, I knew exactly what I was going to get her.

Meanwhile, Dad didn’t want to participate in Secret Santa, so he sat aside, watching us all open our gifts with an amused face. Mum didn’t want him left out, so she surprised him with a gift—a branded t-shirt with his favourite TV show ‘Yellowstone’ on it.

Now, as we sit in the aftermath of opening up presents, Livturns to Isla and says, “Well, what did you get, girl?”

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