Page 72 of Ride By Your Side

“Hi,” I reply, hating how quiet and breathy it sounds, but I can’t help it. He still has me, even when I wish he didn’t.

“Maybe we should give you a minute, yeah?” Maeve suggests, already reaching for Gemma’s arm as she tugs her further into the studio.

“Have fun, you two,” Gemma calls out in a sing-song voice, her and Maeve’s soft giggles ringing out as they excuse themselves.

“Sorry about them,” I apologize, turning to face him as I point over my shoulder with my thumb.

“No, it’s fine. Iwasactually hoping we could have a moment to talk,” he says.

My brows furrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, as long as that’s okay. I know you’ve been wanting some distance...” he says, waiting for my answer.

“Oh, uh, yeah. That’s fine,” I hastily reply. Sure, I’ve been wanting, and even needing, the space, but now that I have his attention, I can’t help but want to hold onto it for as long as I can.

“Maybe we could find somewhere a little more private?” he suggests, his gaze darting around the room. Though the space is reasonable for a photography studio, it’s nowhere near large enough to comfortably accommodate the entire town. Thankfully, most guests are outside where the main festivities are happening, but the studio is still packed with curious onlookers, excited to see the new business.

“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?” I ask, still thrown off. He’s had plenty of time to talk to me—we are roommates, after all—so what’s so special about now?

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. I was just hoping we could talk about a few things.”

The crease in my brow deepens, but I nod before spotting the door to the darkroom. “Maybe we could go in there?” I suggest, tilting my head toward the back of the studio.

While much of the place is open to the public, especially for the people to explore, that part has been marked as off-limits.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he agrees, his hand finding its place on the lower part of my back as he guides me through the small throng of people.

I open the door, step inside, and he follows, closing it behind us.

“So...” I begin, walking further into the small, darkened room before turning to face him. “What exactly did you want to talk about?”

“Us,” he states, his eyes finding mine.

I fold my arms across my chest. “Us? What about us?” I ask, my voice shaky as I look down, no longer able to bear his piercing stare.

“I’m not ready for us to be over. I’m miserable without you,” he bluntly confesses as I finally dare to glance in his direction.

“Miles—” I start, but he shakes his head and crosses the room, stopping in front of me.

“Vee,” he says, his voice a raw and desperate plea. “I know you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared too, but we can’t let that fear hold us back. I don’t just want to explore what we have; I need to. You’ve become more than a want, you’re a necessity. Without you, everything feels shallow and pointless. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay living without you, because I’m not. You’ve filled a void in me I didn’t even know existed, and I refuse to go back to that kind of emptiness.”

My mouth drops open as my eyes soften. “Miles—” I start again, but he takes another step forward and stops me from continuing.

“Let me just get this all out, okay?” he asks, and I nod in silent agreement. “I know that we’ve set ourselves up with a timeline and said that as soon as our elopement ends, so do we, but maybe we don’t need to give ourselves a timeline, and maybe we don’t even need to get an annulment.”

“What?” I blurt, that being the last thing I expected to hear from him tonight.

“Well, I mean, we can if that’s what you really want, but an annulment means that this,” he says, pointing between the two of us, “never happened. And I don’t like that, because what we have is real, and even if some day in the far and distant future we decide that we don’t want to continue this, I don’t want to pretend that we never happened, or that you weren’t my wife. I love you, Veronica Prescott, and while maybe we don’t need toact like some married couple, I’m not ready to throw everything away. I can’t do that, and I hope you don’t want to either.”

I raise a hand to cover my mouth. I’m not a complete idiot. I knew he felt something for me, but I never could have imagined that he felt everything as strongly as I did. Hell, old Veronica probably would have guessed that the only ones he was truly ever capable of loving were Blair and Bubba.

“I love you too.” I confess, my face splitting into a wide grin as I place my hands on his chest.

“Really?” he asks, carefully wrapping his arms around my middle as if I might suddenly break or disappear.

“Yes. Really,” I promise, and before I can make the first move, he beats me to it, his lips hungrily pressing into mine. God, I’ve missed this.

It doesn’t take long as he maneuvers us through the room until my back is pressed into the small countertop, and the two of us are nothing but a tangle of lips, tongues, and needy hands, clearly needing to make up for lost time.

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