Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)
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I giggle and I pull the three of them into a group hug. "Where are we going to celebrate?" I ask.
“I don’t know, but can I have some champagne?” Willow asks as she pulls out of the hug. “It is a celebration.”
“Definitely not,” Julian grumbles. “You’re only—” Willow cuts him off. “Yeah, yeah. I get it, Dad. I’m only sixteen.”
The children are in bed asleep. Julian and I are downstairs in the living room, lying on the sofa in each other’s arms. I brought my essentials back for the weekend today and put them in my old room. “Let’s go to bed,” Julian says with a tender kiss to my lips.
“Okay.” I smile, stand, and go to walk to my room.
“Where are you going?”
“To my bedroom.”
Julian shakes his head and his dark eyes hold mine. “Your bedroom is upstairs.”
Time stands still.
He takes my hand and softly kisses the back of it before he leads me up the stairs at a torturously slow pace. We finally make it to his beautiful, luxurious suite.
He opens the walk-in robe. "This is your wardrobe." I look in and smile because it's already cleared out and empty.
He takes me into the bathroom and opens up the bathroom cabinet—the one I got caught snooping through at the beginning of this whole story. “I’ve cleared your side out.”
I smile cheekily. “Am I allowed to look in here now, Mr. Masters?” I tease.
Who knew all those months ago that this story would turn out like this? I certainly didn’t.
He smiles and stands behind me, his lips dropping to my neck in reverence. I watch us in the mirror. Julian towers over me and is wrapped around me like a blanket.
He adores me. I can feel his love seeping through his touch.
“You can do whatever you want now, baby. This is your house and we are your family.”
I smile as my eyes tear up and I turn to him. “Then I would like to go to bed and make love to my fiancé.”
He kisses me softly. “Not for long.”
I frown.
“You have six weeks to organise the wedding.”
I frown as our lips meet. “That’s not enough time!”
“I’m not waiting any longer. I want you as my wife.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Julian
ALINA MASTERS
1984 – 2013
Wife and beloved mother.
In God's hands, we trust.
I stand at my wife’s grave for the last time.