King of Hearts
Page 102
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All around us, our family and friends enjoyed the party. Marina sat with Alexis’ parents, chatting like they were old friends. Mum had Oliver on her lap now, and I knew that my boy was her world just the same way that he was mine.
Alexis’ hand came to my neck, her fingers light and probing on my skin. “I can’t wait for tonight,” she whispered, echoing my own sentiments. “Maybe we could slip away for a little bit.”
I groaned low in my throat, feeling her shift her body so that her breasts pushed harder against my chest.
“Not yet,” I whispered back. “First, I have something for you.”
Her body was a dream, her stomach soft and rounded, her breasts heavy and full in my hands. As I stared down at her, marvelling at the flare of her hips and her hair spread out like a dark halo around her head, I felt something strange and intangible take hold. My throat was tight, and the taste of her was still in my mouth. I already loved the taste of her.
“I think this is your cue to beg, love,” I murmured.
She did. Christ, she begged so perfectly.
And when I finally sank myself inside her, the final piece of that strange and intangible thing fell into place. I was surely falling.
I sat on the stage in the middle of the tent, our wedding guests seated all around. Alexis was only feet away, and the gravity of what I was about to do caused a heaviness to settle in my gut. My hands hadn’t trembled like this since I’d come off alcohol. I rubbed my palms together in an effort to still them. I couldn’t play music if my hands were shaking.
The wedding band had taken a break, and I sat by the piano, the weight of two hundred pairs of eyes baring down on me. For months I had only played for strangers; now I was playing for everyone I knew in the world. There was a certain comfort in anonymity, but there was no comfort in putting yourself out there for the people who mattered most.
My courage won out, and my hands settled on the keys. My gaze rested on Alexis as I leaned forward and spoke into the microphone.
“Someone once told me that my music can be a gift I give to other people. So, my darling, here’s my wedding gift to you.”
I closed my eyes and played. The music looked like colours behind my eyelids, and I experienced a wonderful moment of synaesthesia. I saw the years flash through my mind, all the pain and loneliness expelled through the tips of my fingers. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Alexis before me, her gaze shiny with unshed tears. Quite like a present waiting under the tree, I knew hers had been opened. She saw me for all I was, and I saw her for all she was. The story in the music of all we’d been through wasn’t pretty, and yet, in that moment I wouldn’t wish to be anyone other than who I was right then. I was glad for my experiences, good and bad. I was glad for what they had made me.
And I was glad that I hadn’t had one life, but that I’d had many.
She stood before me, a miracle made flesh, and God, so much more beautiful than I even remembered. Living without her for so many years had been like living in a world without the sun. I didn’t feel worthy of touching her, and yet, my hands wandered anyway. They began at her temples before descending. Drinking her in with my eyes, I felt my way down until I reached her throat and a breath escaped her. She was from another life, the one I’d left behind, but having her there, my hands on her skin, made me feel like I was stepping out of this life and into a new one.
“Hello,” I said quietly.
“Hi,” she answered back.
End.
Alexis’ hand came to my neck, her fingers light and probing on my skin. “I can’t wait for tonight,” she whispered, echoing my own sentiments. “Maybe we could slip away for a little bit.”
I groaned low in my throat, feeling her shift her body so that her breasts pushed harder against my chest.
“Not yet,” I whispered back. “First, I have something for you.”
Her body was a dream, her stomach soft and rounded, her breasts heavy and full in my hands. As I stared down at her, marvelling at the flare of her hips and her hair spread out like a dark halo around her head, I felt something strange and intangible take hold. My throat was tight, and the taste of her was still in my mouth. I already loved the taste of her.
“I think this is your cue to beg, love,” I murmured.
She did. Christ, she begged so perfectly.
And when I finally sank myself inside her, the final piece of that strange and intangible thing fell into place. I was surely falling.
I sat on the stage in the middle of the tent, our wedding guests seated all around. Alexis was only feet away, and the gravity of what I was about to do caused a heaviness to settle in my gut. My hands hadn’t trembled like this since I’d come off alcohol. I rubbed my palms together in an effort to still them. I couldn’t play music if my hands were shaking.
The wedding band had taken a break, and I sat by the piano, the weight of two hundred pairs of eyes baring down on me. For months I had only played for strangers; now I was playing for everyone I knew in the world. There was a certain comfort in anonymity, but there was no comfort in putting yourself out there for the people who mattered most.
My courage won out, and my hands settled on the keys. My gaze rested on Alexis as I leaned forward and spoke into the microphone.
“Someone once told me that my music can be a gift I give to other people. So, my darling, here’s my wedding gift to you.”
I closed my eyes and played. The music looked like colours behind my eyelids, and I experienced a wonderful moment of synaesthesia. I saw the years flash through my mind, all the pain and loneliness expelled through the tips of my fingers. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Alexis before me, her gaze shiny with unshed tears. Quite like a present waiting under the tree, I knew hers had been opened. She saw me for all I was, and I saw her for all she was. The story in the music of all we’d been through wasn’t pretty, and yet, in that moment I wouldn’t wish to be anyone other than who I was right then. I was glad for my experiences, good and bad. I was glad for what they had made me.
And I was glad that I hadn’t had one life, but that I’d had many.
She stood before me, a miracle made flesh, and God, so much more beautiful than I even remembered. Living without her for so many years had been like living in a world without the sun. I didn’t feel worthy of touching her, and yet, my hands wandered anyway. They began at her temples before descending. Drinking her in with my eyes, I felt my way down until I reached her throat and a breath escaped her. She was from another life, the one I’d left behind, but having her there, my hands on her skin, made me feel like I was stepping out of this life and into a new one.
“Hello,” I said quietly.
“Hi,” she answered back.
End.
