Page 20 of Sweet Beloved

“Once again, you’re right,” I say. “Let’s go.”

“Now, these are a little more expensive,” she says. “They’re diamond and solid gold.”

I set the card on the counter. “Run it. I don’t care.”

She shakes her head, smiling as she swipes the card and starts packing the box up. We’ve done enough business together, she knows to put it in the little green box with matching tissue paper. I take the bag, thank her for the gift and the coffee, and step out onto the street.

It’s a warm day, the sun shining. I know Freya’s working, and despite having seen her just a few hours ago, I’d like to drop in and see her some more. Cheryl is absolutely right that I’m a wife guy, and I’m fine with it. I’ll wear that like a badge.

The café door is open, propped on a flower pot. Freya stands in the doorway, arms crossed, talking to a customer. I hang back, not wanting to interfere with her job. She looks so good, so confident. My chest is warm with pride, and it takes everything I have to stay back until she waves goodbye to her customer and disappears back inside.

I head up the steps, entering the café, andgoddamn it, there’s somebody waiting at the counter. She glances up, a smile ghosting her face, and gives me a hard stare that warns me to wait my turn.

I give her a look back that makes her blush, and my mind goes to dirty places, like the alley behind the building. The first time I persuaded her to let me take her there, up against the wall, she was mortified. Then, she gave in, unwilling to resist. Unbeknownst to Tracy, I’ve committed atrocities in the back room and behind the café over the years. And now that the café will belong to Freya, I plan on being even worse.

I step aside to let the customer go outside. Then, it’s just Freya and me. She smiles, turning up her face so I can kiss her. I had a whole plan working in my head when I bought the earrings. I was going to surprise her tonight, but I find myself taking out the box and setting it on the counter. I’ve never been patient. She cocks her head, narrowing her eyes.

“What’s this for?”

“Being perfect and beautiful,” I say.

She rolls her eyes, but I can tell it’s just a cover. Her delicate hands, wearing the ring I put on her finger all those years ago, snap the box open. Her brows shoot up.

“Deacon, these are expensive,” she whispers. “Where on earth will I wear these?”

“Work,” I say. “You’re about to be the boss.”

She laughs, but when she sees how serious I am, she sobers. Our eyes meet, my stomach flips the way it always does. There’s so much magic in her. She took me from night to a morning that always stays golden. She is a bright, brilliant light, and I’m spellbound, entranced by everything that is Freya.

These earrings are a poor representation of all that. But they’re all I have.

I clear my throat. “You can also wear them when you’re naked, riding my dick,” I quip. “I’d love to see that later.”

“Deacon!” Her eyes dart to the door to make sure we’re alone.

“Put them on, sweetheart,” I order, letting my voice drop to the one that activates our dynamic in her. Subtle signs of it appear.A faint spreading of her pupils. A little pink between her collar bones.

She takes them out, removing her plain studs. Then, head cocked, I watch as she slips them in her ears. There’s a strand of gray in the curl by her ear, a few faint lines at the corner of her eye. God, I have never seen her this beautiful before.

She lifts her head, suddenly unsure. “How do I look? A little too dressy?”

The gold and diamonds glitter on either side of her face. My chest tightens.

“You look perfect.”

She hears the catch in my voice, and she reaches out, taking my hand. “Don’t get all soft on me,” she teases. “It’s just a promotion.”

We both know that’s not true. It’s everything that’s happened over the last seventeen years and everything that will happen before the end. It’s the way she’s loved me with everything she has and how I’ve loved her back. It’s the realization that’s just now hitting us that our boys are getting older, that someday soon, everything will be different.

But it’s knowing there will always be us that makes it all alright.

The soft sound of chatter comes from the sidewalk as a crowd heads towards the café door. I glance over my shoulder to see a group of customers coming in. Freya scoops up the box and tucks it behind the register. She smooths her hair out of the way, earrings glittering.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” I say, bending in to give her a chaste kiss over the counter.

“I love you,” she whispers.

I kiss her again. Then, I’m gone, leaving her to shine the way she was always meant to.

---