Wedging herself into my chest, she breathed me in, shaking a little. “I don’t know. Being back in a town? Having other people watch us? Wondering if they know? Afraid that we’ll be caught and the past few wonderful weeks will be over?”
Putting the basket down with our carefully chosen supplies, I hugged her close, breathing into her ear. “No one sees us. We’re invisible.”
Other shoppers strolled past, some looking at us and others not caring at all. I wouldn’t deny I’d felt the same fear Della did as we left the forest, backpacks, and tent and followed the animal tracks out from the trees toward the country doorstop where the only things on Main Street were a bar, pharmacy, doctors, pet store, diner, and supermarket. Oh, and a knickknack store that claimed to have more junk than K-Mart at half the price.
However, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Della’s insistence. We didn’t need food, but fresh fruit and baked goods would be nice. And we didn’t need medicine, but we had come to see a doctor.
The prickle of being around people again was worse after being on our own for so long, but Della had insisted, and I couldn’t refuse.
Besides, I wasn’t against getting some more painkillers for the ache that hadn’t left my chest. It’d been months since I’d had the flu yet an occasional cough still lingered, annoyingly persistent.
“Della, look at me.” I pulled back a little, waiting until her chin popped up, and her eyes met mine. “No one knows who we are. We’re just two strangers to them. Two strangers kissing in a supermarket.”
Her lips parted in a gasp as I bent my head and captured her mouth with mine. Her back rippled with tension under my palms, her eyes wide and worried. But then I deepened the kiss and her tension melted away, trusting me to keep her safe, slipping into the lust we always suffered.
Her eyes closed, and my body hardened, and this was a bad, bad idea because I couldn’t just keep the kiss at publicly acceptable; I had to lick her, taste her, clutch her as close as I could so she felt what she did to me.
Only when her breath caught and someone cleared their throat in disapproval did I let her go. The kiss upset my balance. I expected trees around us not shelves with overly sugary cereals. I was all the more aware we were in a place I hated. But at least I’d helped Della with her anxiety, and she gave me the biggest smile with pink-pleased cheeks.
“Kiss me like that again, and we’ll be arrested for indecent exposure.” She looked me up and down as if she’d rather eat me than the food on display.
“Look at me that way for much longer, and this town expedition will end as quickly as it began.”
She laughed softly. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“I know you did.” I wiped my bottom lip where her taste still lingered. Honey and chocolate from the Toblerone bar she’d opened and snuck a piece before we’d paid.
“Okay, so we’re done here, right?” I coughed once and picked up the basket from the floor. Another tube of toothpaste, sunblock, painkillers, and a range of perishable and non-perishable foods. We used a basket to select what to buy so we didn’t fill up a cart and forget we had to carry it for miles.
“Oh, almost forgot!” She dashed back to the toiletry aisle while I made my way to the checkouts. At least today I wouldn’t be stealing. The cash I’d saved before leaving and the deposit on the apartment we’d had refunded were more than enough to keep us going for a couple of years before the dreaded concept of employment knocked on our strange holiday-honeymoon.
As I placed the basket on the conveyor belt behind an elderly woman counting out coupons, Della tossed three boxes of condoms on top of our innocent fruit and veggies.
“Three?” I raised my eyebrow, flicking a quick glance at anyone who might’ve seen. I didn’t care that we were buying condoms. I cared that they’d figure out Della was the one person I should never be sleeping with.
“Tina told me a couple of years ago that the pill takes up to a week to become effective, and if I have a tummy upset, secondary precautions are needed, too.” She gave me another coy I-want-you-right-now kind of look. “I won’t last a week, Ren. And don’t pretend you will, either.”
I gritted my teeth as the checkout girl stole our basket and started scanning things before tossing them into plastic bags. “You’re forgetting I exercised self-restraint for years. I can manage a week.”
She pinched my ass as I pulled out a bundle of cash from my back pocket. “That was before.”
Before.
Such a simple word, but it held so much history.
“You’re right.” I smiled, loving the way she stood close, her eyes twinkling with joy—joy for just sharing something as mundane as shopping with me.
Clearing my throat, I tore my gaze from hers and looked back at the cash in my hands. Handling the money shot me back to the time Della had helped me tally up and charge for the hay bales at John Wilson’s place.
Not for the first time, I thought about him. How he was? Did he get another farmhand? Was his family okay?
And not for the last time, I wondered what he’d say now that I’d broken that self-restraint and claimed Della.
Would he understand?
Would he condemn me?
Would he say I told you so?
His warning of finding a way to keep Della as my sister ran through my head as the teller reeled off a figure, and I handed her a bunch of notes. I’d failed in that respect, but really, looking back…I think he knew. He knew there was something more between us, and that was why he’d sent us away.
Because eventually, even if we’d stayed there, we would’ve fallen into bed, and things would’ve gotten messy. Especially with Cassie in the mix.
“Have a pleasant day,” the checkout girl said blandly, already scanning items of the customer behind me.
I grabbed two bags and Della took one as we left the supermarket with its annoying beeps and bright lights and stood on the pavement where the sun reminded us we were wasting one of the last days of camping weather by being cooped up inside concrete and steel.
“I don’t want to be much longer, Little Ribbon.”
“Me neither.” She placed her well-used and scratched aviators on to avoid the glare and strode purposely toward the doctor’s. “How is this going to work, do you think?”
I shrugged. “Same way we’ve always done it. Our name is Wild. We’ll pay cash. We lost our driver’s licenses, so have no identification, yada yada.”
Slowing to a stop, she looked at me, biting her lip. “Hey, Ren?”
My heart pumped faster—as it always did when she looked at me like that. “Yeah?”
“On the form, if they ask what our relationship status is…um, what do I put?”
Goosebumps scattered over my arms as the answer I’d always given her delayed upon my tongue. ‘I’m your brother.’ That wasn’t just incorrect anymore, it was undermining everything good and perfect that’d happened between us.
Putting the groceries down, I tugged her bag free to join the rest, then ran my fingers through her hair until I fisted two handfuls right there on the street. “I never got to give the speech I’d prepared when I came back to find you. I had a whole promise laid out. How I’d come back because I couldn’t live without you. That even if it meant I couldn’t have you, even though it would rip my heart out and leave me bleeding until the day I died, I’d gladly walk you down the aisle on your wedding day. I would’ve given you away to another man, Della, because that was my job in your life. To ensure you had everything you ever needed in which to live. To be happy.”
I trembled as I kissed her softly. “But then I read your manuscript, and I realised I could be the one to make you happy, so I said other things. So much more important things.” Digging my fingers harder into her hair, I murmured against her mouth, “So, if they ask who I am to you…there’s only one thing you can say.”
“What’s that?” she breathed, shivering with matching goosebumps.
“That you share my last name. Th
at you own my heart.” I kissed her hard and fast, long and lingering. “Tell them…you’re my wife.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
DELLA
* * * * * *
2031
WHEN REN KISSED me that day on the street, he didn’t know it, but he gave me every hope I’d been nursing since we’d fought with the truth and gave in.
Our last name was as much his as it was mine, and I didn’t want to change. But how could we not when Wild had been a sibling address, and these days, we were so much more than that?
I’d teased with the idea that it could be our married one, sure, but until Ren said the words I’d been fighting, I didn’t think it was possible.
He successfully made me float on air, wrapped me up in daydreams, and sent me gooey with desire.
After that, I didn’t really care what we did as long as he was always near.
We went to the doctor, filled in forms, ignored side glances when we said we had no I.D, and proudly ticked the ‘married’ box without an ounce of shame.
To start with, the doctor refused to see us without some form of identification.
But Ren quietly took him aside and had a few words. I didn’t know what transpired, but after an hour or so wait, I was ushered in to see a doctor who asked my sexual history, if I was aware of the health risks, and prescribed me the pill to prevent pregnancy.
I asked for more than just three months’ supply, but he was adamant my blood pressure should be checked before a refill was given.
At the time, it frustrated me, but then I remembered it would be winter, and we’d most likely be holed up somewhere close enough to a town not to be a nuisance.
After we’d filled the script at the pharmacy next door, taken another handful of condoms from the fishbowl on the counter saying ‘Free: help your frisky selves,’ my stomach growled, and the diner with its sun-bleached specials in the window and paint-chipped green door reminded me of all the times Ren had found ways to make simple excursions into life-affirming treats.
Looking back, it was yet another moment I had no choice but to write down.
Mainly because of what happened next.
I’d dragged him into the grease-infused restaurant all while he grumbled and kept his eyes glued on the horizon where the tips of the trees waved at us in the chilly breeze. I’d forgotten how unsociable Ren was. After living in the city for so many years, he’d relaxed enough not to hanker for freedom or give the impression he was a trapped animal amongst a cage of glass and brick. But he’d been in his element for too long, and it was a visible chore for him to stay away for long.
I felt the same tug to leave, but I also had the tug of hunger. Taking pity upon him, compromising like a good couple, we agreed to order takeaway cheeseburgers and curly fries, eating the naughty but oh-so-good meal in the tiny park across the street.
Once our bellies were full and fingers salt-dusted from french fries, I stood and expected him to march directly back into the wilderness with me trotting to keep up.
However, his eyes landed on the junk store with its vow to beat K-Mart with its merchandise and prices and, with a determined look, he dragged me into the overly cluttered store with its scents of candle wax and plastic toys, smiling as if he had a secret.
This is why I had to write this.
This is why I was so madly in love with him.
“I want to buy you something.”
“Okay…” I narrowed my eyes. “What do you want to buy me?”
“Something you’re not allowed to see until I’ve found it.”
I looked around at the overflowing baskets of tea-towels and dog collars. This place had everything from shampoo and cookies to Easter and Halloween decorations. “And you’ll find it in here?” I raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you up to?”
“Call it…a gesture of a future eventuality.”
I laughed, drawing the attention of the mid-twenties cashier sucking on a lollypop. “I think we need to get you back into the forest. The city is infecting you with retail therapy and commercial advertisement.”
“You did say shopping with me was a novelty.” He smirked. “While I find what I want for you, you find me something.”
“Like what?” My heart sprang into action, acting nonchalant but already rushing with images of finding the perfect gift. We’d shared many birthdays, but apart from my ribbon tattoo that Ren paid for, and the willow horse he carved back at Cherry River, we had no keepsakes or mementos. Not that we had space.
“Go on.” Ren pointed down an aisle full of ugly porcelain vases and weird bachelorette party gimmicks—let me tell you there were a lot of penises: penis straws, penis shot glasses, penis aprons, and unicorn horns shaped like dildos. “You trying to tell me I’m missing an appendage you want, Ren?” I couldn’t stifle my snicker. “’Cause you know, I rather like playing with yours so I can see the allure—”
“Honestly, Della.” He grabbed my bicep, yanking me into the aisle and away from the nosy sales keeper. “You always know how to get a rise out of me, don’t you?” His voice was brash with temper, but his eyes glowed like chocolate syrup.
Things with wings erupted in my heart as I stood on tiptoes just as Ren’s mouth crashed down on mine.
He kissed me so fierce and swift, I stumbled backward, directly into a shelf of penises with wind up legs that all bounced and whirred from the unwanted collision.
We broke apart, laughing as penis after miniature penis committed suicide off the shelf.
“You break it, you pay for it!” a voice yelled from the front of the store.
Ren and I only laughed harder.
Funny how memories like that—the ones that are so simple and stupid—are the ones that stick in your head with such clarity you can transport back to every smell, heartbeat, and yearning.
I want to share every detail, but I also want to rush and tell you what Ren bought for me and I bought for him. Because, honestly, they were two gifts that became our most treasured belongings. No mud, snow, dust, or grime could make us remove them. Even now, I still wear it. Even now, after so long.
“Ten minutes, Little Ribbon.” Ren kissed the tip of my nose. “And no peeking at where I go.”
“I have no idea what to get you, so I’ll be using those ten minutes wisely, not stalking you.”
“Good.”
“Fine.” I grinned. “See you at the cash register.”
“No, see you outside. Here.” Forcing a twenty-dollar bill into my hand, he kissed my cheek as if he couldn’t not kiss me whenever we were close. “Pay for what you find and meet me on the street.”
* * * * *
Sorry, I let memories take over and forgot to type.
Who knew writing about something so silly would be so utterly heart-breaking—not because it was sad but because it was so good?
So perfect.
So sweet.
I was so incredibly lucky, and I’m just glad I recognised just how lucky, rather than take Ren for granted.
The older I get, and the more I grow, I’m always struck by two things:
One, no matter my age, I always feel the same. No more adult than child or wise than stupid. I keep expecting myself to snap into a grown-up, but it’s never happened.
And two, nothing beat just hanging out with Ren.
Nothing.
No trip or gift or fancy new experience.
Nothing could beat just existing with the love of my life.
Remembering is almost bittersweet, but I suppose I better finish this particular chapter before I close my laptop and go in search of the very man I’m writing about.
I’ll skip over the mad rush through the carnival ride of junk and pointless figurines and
not bother to mention the adrenaline rush of finding such a random, childish, and exquisitely perfect gift that Ren would no doubt roll his eyes at and laugh in that affectionate, perfect way of his. The way that opened his entire face from suspicion and ruthlessness into a window
of trust and devotion.
I couldn’t stand still as I waited for him on the curb and spun to face him when the junk store bell jingled.
In his hand rested a small, brown paper bag.
He gave me a half-smile. “This feels like a ridiculous idea now.”
“I think it’s the best idea you’ve had in a while.”
“You’re saying I lack good ideas, Della?” He narrowed his eyes, but behind his fake annoyance, laugher bubbled.
“Well, you have to admit the best idea we’ve ever had was sleeping together—and that was mine, so you’re welcome. You can thank me later, but right now, you’re handing over my present.”
“You’re saying all of this, our relationship, the fact that I told you to call yourself my wife, was your idea?” He put the shopping bags on the ground, delaying giving me the gift just like he had when he’d presented me with that tea-towel wrapped horse.
Delay tactics were Ren’s way of pretending he wasn’t nervous by covering it up with bluster and brawn.
“Yes, all mine. Been my idea for years.” Shooting my hand out, I held up my own paper bag. “Stop changing the subject and swap.”
He huffed dramatically, playing along with the familiar way we joked and ribbed. “I don’t know why I put up with you most of the time.”
“Too late now. You married me.”
His face lost its joviality, slipping straight into steely sternness. “Not yet I haven’t. But I’m working on it.”
My tummy let loose a torrent of floating balloons, filling my insides with helium.
“Here.” He passed me the gift, taking his in return. “It’s not much. But it’s a promise of more.”
I don’t mind telling you—mainly because you’ll have figured it out for yourself—but I wasn’t good at delayed gratification. I should’ve clutched that paper bag and paused in that moment. That delicious, perfect moment where the happiest future I could’ve ever imagined teased.
But I didn’t.
I was too impatient.
I ripped at the bag and tears instantly appeared as I tipped out a ring with a blue gemstone dancing in the sun.